one of a kind
by Sarsalot
Summary: FINISHED!!!!!! The completed version of One of a Kind, typos fixed and authors notes removed. I just found out there was a blip with chp12, but that's fixed now.
1. thwarted plans

**One of a kind**

Disclaimer: If you recognise a character or place, it's not mine, but belongs to the all-powerful Tamora Pierce. I'm just borrowing them for a while, so don't sue, as I have no money anyway. Toffee is MINE.

Chapter One: Thwarted Plans

"Also, I have matters which I must discuss with the king, so Thom, I shall be accompanying you when you leave tomorrow to start your training at the palace."

Alanna of Trebond sat, rooted in her chair in shock. If her father went with Thom, they'd never be able to pull off their plan to swap places so she could become a knight and Thom become a great sorcerer. For all he didn't care about them at all, their father saw them both often enough that he knew the tiny differences by which those who knew them could tell Alanna and her twin brother apart, even were she dressed as a boy with her long hair cut short like Thom's.

Lord Alan glanced up from the sheaf of paper's he was reading. "Well, go on, you are dismissed. Go and pack your things. Thom, Coram will help you pack whatever you will need for you training, and Alanna, Maude will help you pack those things you will need at the convent."

With an effort, Alanna roused herself enough out of her horrified daze to get up from her chair and walk towards the door of her father's study. She looked towards her twin. Thom looked as horrified as she felt.

They walked together towards the suite of rooms they shared. "I don't believe it," Alanna whispered. "He hasn't cared about Trebond for almost eleven years, and now, just when we need him to ignore us and everyone else, he suddenly takes an interest in the things around him!"

"I know," said Thom fiercely, throwing the door open ahead of them with his gift. "It's so unfair! I don't even _want_ to be a knight! I _hate_ falling down and whacking at things!"

"How d'you think _I_ feel? You get to go learn jousting and fencing, while _I'll_ be being forced to do embroidery and walk around with a book on my head!"

She sank miserably into her favourite armchair, fighting an urge to cry. Warriors didn't cry. She might not be able to go and train at the palace, but she'd find a way to become a warrior maiden somehow.

Thom sat down next to her on the armrest, putting an arm about her shoulders.

"Alanna, Thom?" The soft voice belonged to Maude, the primary healer of the town surrounding Trebond Castle. She would be going with Alanna as her guardian to the convent the next day. Beside her stood Coram, Trebond's burly smith and sergeant-at-arms, who would be travelling to the palace the next day with Thom, where he would stay as Thom's manservant during the years of knight training he would undergo.

"Come, children. I know you are upset but there is much to be done before tomorrow and sulking won't change anything. You'll have an early start tomorrow."

The twins sighed in unison, and went into their separate rooms reluctantly to start packing.

***

The first leg of the journeys that would take Alanna to the convent and Thom and Lord Alan to the palace was down the long road that connected fief Trebond to the Great Road that was Trebond's connection to the rest of Tortall, but the trip was made silent by the fact that Lord Alan was, as usual, deep in thought, Maude and Coram were too sorry for the twins to  talk, and the twins looked and felt as truly miserable as only a pair of ten year olds can when they have been prevented from achieving their dreams.

The party reached the main road at midmorning, and after stopping for a short break, mounted up again and prepared to go their separate ways. Chubby pranced as Thom attempted to get back on, and Alanna came over to hold his reins and soothe him. As he clambered on, it suddenly struck Alanna through her apathy that this would be the last time she would see her twin for six years.

She agilely mounted her own pony, Toffee, and steering her over, pulled Thom into a tight hug, which he returned, ignoring the protests of the two ponies. She kissed him on the cheek, fighting back hot salty tears, and pulled reluctantly away. "Good luck, Thom. You'll need it. Try not to get hurt _too _badly."

"I'll try. Probably won't succeed, though. I'll miss you, 'Lany."

"I'll miss you too. Goddess bless, Thom.

"Thom, we're leaving." The short, sharp command came from their father.

Thom stared back down the road at Alanna until a bend took him out of sight. Alanna held back her tears through sheer willpower, reminding herself that a warrior didn't cry. She lifted her chin proudly. If she could face a knife-wielding opponent in a fight, then she could certainly face a group of stuffy old priestesses. Kicking Toffee forward, she began to ride stiffly along the road that would take her to the convent.


	2. the convent

One of Kind

Disclaimer: Honestly what is the point in this? If you don't know that this all belongs to the great Tamora Pierce, then WHY ARE YOU READING IT? Shame on you. Anyway, don't sue, 'cause the only thing that belongs to me so far is Toffee the pony.

Chapter Two: The Convent

The five-day journey to the convent was almost over. They would reach it in time for the evening meal if they continued the way they were going now. Above, thunder cracked ominously. _Great, I have to go to the convent, Thom gets to live my dream, and now, on top of it all, it starts to storm!_

The last of the late afternoon sun disappeared behind dark-grey storm clouds, shrouding the ugly landscape in shadow. _And to think I have to spend the next six years here._

Alanna grimaced in distaste. She might not have been the sort of girl to spend all here time worrying about whether something looked pretty or not, but the barren, desolate mountain landscape was enough to hurt the eyes of the most unaesthetically inclined person in the world.

They rounded a corner just as lightning cracked overhead, giving Alanna a clear view of what was to be her home for the next six years. The convent was built of solid grey stone, surrounded by a high stone wall that would give an army pause. _No doubt meant to keep unruly 'ladies' from escaping._ Alanna thought, as they made their way down the road towards it.

A servant greeted them at the gate, guiding them to the stables, looking over Alanna as he did so. She pointedly ignored him, removing Toffee's tack herself, and reached for a curry brush to start removing the mud from Toffee's once honey-coloured, now mud-splattered coat, only to have her hand slapped away by Maude.

"The servant's will take care of the horses, Alanna. It's time for you to meet the First Daughter of the convent." Alanna glared mutinously at Maude but allowed herself to be led through away from the stables through the labyrinth of stone corridors that lead to the First Daughters office.

The young priestess that led them there knocked on the door. A deep feminine voice answered. "Come in."

The young woman opened the door, bowing to the tall, calm looking woman that sat behind the desk in the robes of the First Daughter. "A new young noble lady to receive training, First Daughter."

She nodded. "Come here child."

There was something about her voice that made Alanna feel she couldn't refuse that command whether she wanted to or not. She walked forward, lifting her chin defiantly as she did so, retrieving her father's letter from the pocket of her now very dirty riding skirts. The priestess look the silently offered letter, broke the wax bearing the Trebond coat of arms, and read it in silence.

When she finished reading, she looked up at Alanna, her piercing gaze seeming to go right through Alanna, laying bare her deepest, most secret thoughts and feelings. Alanna squirmed uncomfortably, not liking the feeling, then straightened and returned the stare, not realising that for most people, that bold purple stare would have felt as soul-baring as the First Daughter's. The older woman reached out for her hand, and, without thinking, Alanna gave it. The priestess's eyes widened. "You have the hand of the Goddess upon you, lady Alanna. Welcome to her convent."

With that, she realised Alanna's hand. Alanna sagged, suddenly feeling like a puppet whose strings have been cut. "Sophia, please everything appears to be in order. Would you please take lady Alanna to her new rooms and then to the dining hall after that, so she may retire. I'm sure she is very tired after her trip.

Suddenly, Alanna did feel very tired. She barely made it through a late dinner before stumbling back to her rooms and into her bed, stopping only to remove her boots before falling asleep.

As she slept, she dreamed. 

~ _The Head Daughter and Daughter Sophia were standing in her office. "We will need to keep an eye on that one. She's not a bad child, but, as I said, she has been touched by the hand of the Goddess, and will need guidance. She has a strong spirit, to all appearances, and a powerful gift. I feel she will be very important in some way as an adult, and perhaps before that. The Goddess sent her to us for a reason."_

_Sophia nodded. "Did you place a sleeping spell on her?"_

_"I did. If she had time to think about it, she no doubt would have had many questions, which I could not have answered. We must look to the Goddess for guidance." ~_

***

Thom glared at his father's retreating back, thinking that there was no sight he could have hated more at that moment. He had left Thom at the palace after a few words with the training master and the king, and had given Thom no more than a short "Goodbye," before leaving. _Of course, if he actually cared about you enough to say a proper goodbye then you wouldn't be in this mess right now._

In truth, Thom didn't care one way or the other whether his father said goodbye properly or not. He was just finding fault with his father because he hated him so much right then.

A servant showed Thom and Coram the way to his rooms in the pages wing, and Thom after a quick glance in the mirror, decided to quickly change into his new uniform to go down to the mess hall.

Thom walked nervously down the hall, relying on the sound of talk and laughter to guide him. "Hey you! Where d'you think you're going?" The voice belonged to a brutish looking ugly blond boy. "Down to the mess hall." Thom tried to keep his voice calm. The brute sneered. "Only pages and squires eat in the mess hall."

"I am a page." The blond snorted. "A country boy trying to pass himself off as a noble?"

Thom scowled. "I'll have you know that I'm the son of the lord of Trebond. I hardly see how you could be called a noble though, I thought stupidity had been bred out of our ranks by now."

With a howl of fury, the blond boy launched himself at Thom, who dodged out of the way, but not quickly enough to avoid a glancing blow to his cheek. He dodged under the boy's arm, and kicked at the back of his knees, one of the few fighting movements Alanna had managed to teach him. The boy spun around, grabbing at Thom's foot and pulling him down. He pulled back his fist to punch him, and in desperation Thom threw a spell at him to solidify the air around him, scrambling away from him as he did so.

"What's going on?"

Thom started at the young but commanding male voice, letting go of the half completed spell. Released, the boy threw himself at Thom, but was stopped by an enormous, curly haired boy. Thom turned to face the speaker, a tall, black haired, blue-eyed boy about four years older than Thom.

"Your Highness," spat the blond boy, shaking free of the other boy's grasp to bow stiffly towards the black haired boy. "This boy tried to cast a spell on m-"

 "I seem to recall asking you not to speak to me, Malven. I think we can tell without your help what has happened here." 

"But - "

 "Your presence is no longer required, Malven."

The boy who the prince called Malven stalked away, muttering and throwing black looks in Thom's direction. Thom stared after him for a moment before turning back to the group in front of him. He bowed. "I take it you are Prince Jonathan?"

"I am. _That_ was Ralon of Malven. This is Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak," He gestured to the big, curly haired boy, "my cousin Gareth of Naxen," a boy almost as big as Raoul, "Gary," the boy corrected, "and Alex of Tirragen." Alex was almost as small as Thom, with dark hair and eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Thom of Trebond, your Highness." 

The prince nodded. "Have you been to court before? I don't recall seeing you here before."

"No, your Highness, I've never been here before."

"Then you'll need a sponsor to show you around. I'd do it myself, but I'm too often with my parents to do it properly."

"I'll do it, Jon." Said Gary, grinning at Thom as he did so. "Shall we go down to the hall and introduce our newest member to our ranks?"

By the end of the evening, as well as being introduced to several other pages and squires, Thom had met three boys of his own age, pages named Geoffrey, Douglass and Francis.

It was late before Thom slipped into bed, thinking, _well, at least I didn't have to try and fight in training today. Alanna would've loved this_.


	3. lessons, Tat, and ... Delia?!?!?!

One of a Kind 

Disclaimer: Might try it in dribble this time. Here goes. Nalagan olagof thilagis belagelolagongs tolago melage, ilagits allagal Talagamelageys. Tolagofelagee, Solagophelagealaga Tlagat arlagar milagine. (Translation - none of this belongs to me it's all Tammy's. Toffee, Sophia and Tat are mine.)

A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, everybody! Who's Tat? I hear you ask , read on and find out!

Chapter three: Lessons, Tat, and … Delia?!?!?!

Alanna groaned, wondering why she felt so miserable, and then remembered where she was. The convent. The last place on earth she wanted to be. Wondering what had woken her, she sat up slightly, glancing around her new rooms. Maude came bustling in from one of the smaller doors, looking determinedly cheerful, and carrying a towel slung over one arm.

"Come now, Alanna, you need to bathe and dress so you won't be late for your lessons. Mithros you're dirty, child. Come on, or do you want a cold bath?"

Shuddering at the thought of having to endure a cold bath in her already freezing rooms, Alanna staggered out of bed, allowing Maude to lead her into the small bathroom.

She had just finished pulling on her most comfortable dress, and thoroughly drying her hair into a copper cloud, when someone knocked on the door. She stood up as Maude opened the door for the young priestess she had met last night - Sophia, the First Daughter had called her. She smiled slightly at Alanna, who stopped herself just short of grinning outright at the young priestess's friendly face, and smiled back. 

"Lady Alanna, I am to take you down to the dining hall for breakfast and then to your first lesson after that. Are you ready?"

Alanna nodded, and the young woman beckoned silently for her to follow, and walked out the door. With a last glance at Maude, Alanna followed, taking care to keep close to her as they walked down the twisting stone corridors. They rounded a corner and Alanna stopped dead at the slight of dozens of girls and the odd group of boys sitting together in the hall.

"You might want to eat quickly, as there's not that much time left before the first lessons begin."

Alanna nodded silently in assent and walked over to the tables set up with food, selecting an apple and shoving a second in her pocket for later, before wandering over to a window seat, where she sat slumped, eating her apple and staring out at the iron grey sky. The bell rang, startling Alanna into dropping her apple core, and she quickly picked it up, glancing round for Sophia. Seeing her standing behind her, Alanna stifled a yelp of fright, biting her lip. Sophia said nothing, only grinned, and pointed to a bin where uneaten food and dirty dishes appeared to be put. Alanna took aim and threw the apple core into the centre, then blushed a Sophia raised an expressive eyebrow. "Come on, you'll be late. It's not a good way to start your time here, and especially since you have Priestess Clothilde for your first lesson."

Alanna wondered who Priestess Clothilde was, and then, shrugging, once again followed Sophia down the maze of stone corridors to a medium sized room filled with desks. A old, irritable looking priestess writing on a large sheet of paper tacked to the front wall of the room turned, frowning, as Sophia knocked on the door. Sophia gently pulled Alanna forward. "This is lady Alanna of Trebond, Priestess Clothilde. She is to join your class." Looking the priestess over, Alanna realised why Sophia had given her the impression it wasn't wise to annoy her. She looked willing to dole out all sorts of horrible punishments to anyone who did.

Priestess Clothilde sniffed, looking at Alanna disapprovingly. Then she said, "In this class, we study reading and writing, and the way in which they relate to etiquette. You may sit between lady Tatiana and lady Delia." She gestured impatiently with her hand towards two girls who were sitting as far away from each other as the desk would allow.

As she sat down, the priestess turned back to her paper, and the girl on the right looked down her pert little nose at her, and said, "_I_ am lady Delia of Eldorne. " her superior tone of voice irritated Alanna, and did not invite further conversation. A tap on her shoulder made her turn her head toward the girl on her left, a medium height girl with unruly white blond hair and sparkling grey-green eyes. She held out a hand. "Tatiana of Eagles Reach. Most people call me Tat, though. Pleased to meet you, Alanna." This time Alanna couldn't restrain herself. She grinned, and shook the girl's hand. "Pleased to meet you too. Is she always like that?" Alanna tossed her fiery head towards Delia. Tat grinned and whispered, "Who, _lady_ Delia? Of course. She seems to think it's her job to be nasty to people younger than her. Don't worry about it. She -"

"Lady Tatiana, lady Alanna, stop chattering and get on with your work!"

Reaching for her quill, Tat muttered to a bewildered looking Alanna, "We're studying the rudimentaries of invitation writing today. What fun."

Alanna smiled her thanks, pulling the textbook Priestess Clothilde had dumped in front her over and receiving whispered help from Tat whenever she had trouble understanding something. When the bell finally rang, she scooped up her books just before Tat grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the room. "I thought that lesson would never end! I don't suppose you know where the next lesson is, do you?"

"No, I wouldn't have a clue." 

"I suppose I better show you around then. Otherwise you might end up being shown around by Delia and her clones." Tat grimaced. "Not nice. I had to do that when I first came here and since I like you, I'll spare you the experience. Next class is needlework with priestess Katerina. She's not too bad, considering. A bit strict, but she's fair. She also takes the gifted for magic."

Tat continued to supply Alanna with interesting bits and pieces of information throughout the day, and by the end of the last lesson, (riding - by far Alanna's favourite, although she had to ride side saddle instead of the way she'd always done it, like a boy,) they had discovered that they had quite a lot in common.

_Well,_ thought Alanna as she stripped of her dress and changed into a nightgown, _today wasn't a complete disaster. At least I made a friend._


	4. Trouble

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: Does anyone actually read this? It's such a waste of time. Like _I_ could come up with a character like Alanna. I can't. It takes someone like Tamora Pierce, the _real_ owner, to do that. I'm just borrowing. (I did, however, come up with Toffee, Tat, who I am very proud of, and some priestesses.)

Chapter four: Trouble

Toffee snorted as Alanna removed the unwieldy sidesaddle, as if to signify her dislike of it. Alanna grinned. "You and me both, Toffs." Tat glanced over from where she was brushing down her own horse, a high-strung mare she called Vixen, and grinned. "Talking to your pony again, Alanna? You must be going insane."

Alanna snorted in a very un-ladylike way. "Runs in the family."

Tat laughed, then turned her head back to Vixen, who had gotten a hold on her blouse with her teeth, her way of getting someone's attention. The fine, scratchy material tore as Tat tried to remove it from the mahogany coloured horse's grasp. "Aw, Vixen, you tore it! Now I won't be able to wear it again! What a pity." She added slyly as Alanna hid a grin in Toffee's mane, knowing how much Tat hated the dress which Vixen had so conveniently torn. In the past three months since she had come to the convent, she and Tat had come to know each other very well, discovering almost identical loves of horses, riding, any sort of physical activity bar dancing, and dislikes of most of the so-called ladylike activities they studied, and most of the other things generally associated with ladies - giggling mindlessly, flirting, and hot, heavy dresses.

Tat, however had a slower temper then Alanna, and tended to be less impulsive. After a little persuasion, she could be counted on to join in on almost any adventure Alanna thought up, and to include the younger girl in her own.

Two grooms came over, having finished with the horses of the other 'ladies,' and hurried to take the saddle and currycomb out of their respective hands. Strictly speaking, none of the young ladies were supposed to care for their mounts, but since most girls simply shoved their reins into the hands of the nearest stableboy, as soon as the lesson was over, keeping them all extremely busy, they could usually get away with at least starting to groom their mounts.

Spotting a group of girls in front of them, they hurried to catch up, not wanting to have to wait too long to get their dinner, then abruptly slowed as they recognised Delia's back. Not quickly enough though, to prevent them from hearing her next words.

"If you ask me, the whole family's strange. I mean, look at her, she spends all her time riding or running around in the woods, and I heard that her brother is quite simply the most pathetic excuse for a page that Tortall's ever seen. And if he's anything like her, then they even _look_ it, what with that copper hair and weird purple eyes."

_Purple eyes._ Tat looked worriedly over at Alanna, who had gone pale, and had clenched her hands into fists.

"I beg your pardon, lady Delia?"

Delia turned. "For what, pray tell, lady Alanna?"

Alanna's voice was steady, although her clipped tone told Tat that she was fighting hard to keep it that way.

"I believe I just heard you talking about myself and my brother."

"I was. And what of it?"

"I must demand that you take your comments back."

"And if I don't? After all, they were true, you are a freak and your brother-" she got no further as Alanna fist connected with her eye, knocking her backwards. She gasped, stumbling, and ran at her "Why you little-" Alanna dodged of the way of Delia's outstretched hands, yanking her down with her flowing brown locks, not caring that she pulled quite a bit out as she sat on Delia's now muddy dress, effectively pinning her down. She pulled back her fist, clenching her fingers so hard the knuckles turned white. She glared down at Delia, who was already beginning to develop a large purple bruise around one eye, and said, voice quiet but shaking with anger, "Take it back."

"I-"

"Lady Alanna! Just what do you think you are doing?" Alanna glanced up. Priestess Clothilde ran up, closely followed by Sophia. The priestess grabbed her arm yanking her off Delia, who got up, crying and scowling, as priestess Clothilde said, "Sophia, will you please take lady Delia to the infirmary. I believe lady Alanna needs to have a little chat with the First Daughter."

With that, she set off, dragging Alanna by the arm behind her. Tat stared after them, worried, and gave Alanna an encouraging wave.

Alanna straightened up proudly, determined not to be dragged. This proved difficult however, as the priestess was walking so fast Alanna had to almost run - an almost impossible feat in her heavy skirts - to keep up.

The First Daughter looked up, eyes wide, as the doors to her study burst open to reveal a very angry priestess and an equally angry Alanna.

"Yes, priestess Clothilde?" Her calm, unruffled tone of voice sounded as though Clothilde had walked in calmly after being announced by the young priestess standing guard by the door, rather than bursting in at what was almost a run.

"First Daughter, this _young lady_ attacked lady Delia, who has just been taken to the infirmary by priestess Sophia!"

The First Daughter's expression grew stern. "I see. Leave us." 

"But-"

"I said, _leave us._" Priestess Clothilde's face was a grim mask of barely contained fury as she bowed to the First Daughter and walked out, glaring at Alanna, who stared back until the wooden double doors shut, hiding her retreating back from view.

"Walk forward, child."

Alanna jumped as she heard the stiff command the First Daughter gave, and did as she was bade.

"Is this true, lady Alanna, that you attacked lady Delia?"

It was just like the first time she had met the First Daughter, that feeling that she couldn't disobey of lie to this woman whether of not she wanted to.

"Yes."

"Why, may I ask? For I feel that you are not the sort of person who would do such a thing without good reason." Her voice was stern but her words cheered Alanna slightly. Finding her courage, she answered.

"She - she insulted me and my brother, First Daughter. I asked her to take it back but she refused. I had to defend my honour." After that first, the words came rushing out of her mouth, the last said almost apologetically. She glanced up at the First Daughter through her lashes, then gasped as she felt gentle mental fingers probing her thoughts. It was an advanced spell that she had not been taught, and she realised that the First Daughter was testing the truth of her words.

At last she nodded, and the fingers withdrew from Alanna's mind.

"I see. Very well, lady Alanna, you will apologise formally to lady Delia, and will perform an extra hour of etiquette in your free time for the next month. Furthermore, you will be confined to you rooms for the rest of your free time for that month. I will also have lady Delia informed that she will be required to apologise for her insult to you, and to keep such comments and actions to herself in future. As will you. You are dismissed."

Alanna bowed her head, acknowledging her acceptance of the punishment, and curtsied quickly before exiting the room to where Sophia was waiting to escort her back to her rooms in the hall.

After a period of silence, Sophia said, 

"You should not have done that, Alanna. Such deeds will only lead you into trouble. I must admit, however, that Delia will be sporting one of the most splendid black eyes I have seen in quite some time for quite a while."

Alanna ducked her head, hiding her smile at Sophia's comment under her hair.

***

True to the First Daughter's command, Alanna performed her punishment, and both girls apologised, however, neither forgot the incident and what had before been acute dislike blossomed into hatred.

However, unknown to Alanna, Sophia and the First Daughter, who had both had considerable weapons training, agreed that she appeared to be a very talented fighter, and watched her carefully as they tried to decide, as the First Daughter said, whether her in gift the fighting arts was something significant

 to her being a chosen one of the Goddess.


	5. Blood and Fire

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: You know the drill. If you recognise it, I don't own it. Can someone please explain why we have to put these on _every single chapter_?

Chapter four: Blood and Fire

"And so, by using something that belongs to this person, we can track them using the traces of their aura which remain on the object via this spell. If necessary, we can also use the blood or hair or some such thing belong to a close relative, such as a parent or full-blood sibling, although that requires this more complex form of the spell."

Alanna glanced at the paper on which priestess Katerina was writing down the various forms of the finding spell, then glanced sideways, distracted by the sight of Tat's bewitched quill scribbling down the priestesses words as she tried to finish the next lessons homework under the desk.

Priestess Katerina turned around. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Tat's all too obviously self-propelled quill, and, twitching her finger slightly, collapsed the pen. Beside's her, Alanna heard Tat groan. "I spent an _entire week's_ free time figuring out that spell." She muttered as the priestess turned back to her paper. 

Tat picked up the quill, muttered a few words, and scowled. "She's fixed it so I can't respell it!" Alanna raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't have tried to use it in Katerina's class, then."

"Suppose so. Most of it's done, anyway." She said, scrutinising the notes the pen had made, and scrawling the rest of the spell before going back to her homework.

The bell rang. Alanna sighed. She didn't like to use her Gift if she could avoid it, but she found magic more enjoyable then most of her classes, mainly because Delia wasn't Gifted and so wasn't in the class.

Katerina beckoned to Tat and Alanna waited for her by the door as the priestess meted out Tat's punishment.

"What did she give you?"

"I have to copy out the entire lesson's notes ten times _by hand_."

Alanna grinned at Tat's dramatics. "Could be worse." 

"Suppose so." Unlike Alanna, Tat had no qualms about using her Gift. In fact, she enjoyed it, and Alanna had to admit that some of the things Tat did with it, such as putting an illusion on Delia's homework to make it - usually word perfect, seem to be completely wrong after she 'accidentally' spilled her juice all over Tat's homework at breakfast a month ago, was funny.

Although she had suspected Tat's hand, as neither Delia nor priestess Clothilde had the Gift they could not accuse her, something that both girls had laughed about for days afterward.

That evening at dinner, Sophia came over, dark eyes sparkling as they always did, to give Alanna a letter.

She glanced at the writing on the parchment and grinned in recognition. Over the past five months, she and Thom had only had time to send each other short notes, once shortly after both had left Trebond, and once with the presents they had sent each other on their birthday two months age. From the look and feel of it, this one promised to be much longer.

She tucked it into her pocket and when the meal was over and Tat had gone off to priestess Katerina's classroom for her punishment, Alanna hurried off the her rooms to read Thom's letter.

Once in her room, she pulled it out of her pocket and, breaking the seal, sat down to read it.

_Sister dear,_

_I can't believe it's been five months since we left home and I haven't written properly to you. But then, that's life at the palace for you. I seem to barely have time to sleep between training, lessons and homework, let alone to have time to write to you. The training's horrendous, and I am entirely sure that even you would hate it. It's made more bearable by my friends, and they do help me out with the things I need extra help in for training (almost everything, as you will no doubt have guessed.). I tried to send to you in the fire, but it wouldn't let me. Pity, it would have saved the time that letters take._

_How's life at the convent? No doubt you'll have managed to get into all sorts of trouble in the last few months. I wish I had time to write more but free time is scarce if not nonexistent here. _

_Love, Thom._

Alanna re-read the letter twice, then settled more comfortably into her chair, wondering why Thom couldn't send to her. Perhaps it was to great a distance for the spell they had learnt. _But if it was combined with a seeking spell…_

Alanna bit her lip, wondering. She didn't like to use her magic, but it would be worth it to find Thom.

Settling down cross-legged before the fire, Alanna ran through the two spells in her mind, fitting them together, then removed the thin dagger from it's sheath inside her riding boot, and in one swift movement, cut her finger. Scattering the drops of crimson blood over the burning coals, she began to recite the sending spell, altering it in some places so that she sent to the one with whom she shared that blood - Thom.

The flames roared high in the fireplace, turning purple and then, transparent. 

_She was looking into a simple stone room. To one side of her vision was a bed, with a figure sitting on it, reading. The figure - Thom, looked up at the flames, then yelped and dropped his book, running forward to land on his knees in front of the fire._

"Alanna?"

"Hello, brother dear."

"I - how did you do that? I couldn't see you when I tried to send to you."

"I used a different spell. A combination of a sending spell and a finding spell. Here - " She repeated the spell for him.

Thom nodded as she finished. "I see. So the convent isn't a complete waste of time after all."

Alanna scowled. "I'd rather be at the palace. How've you been?"

"Sore. They put you through a lot here."

"I - " Alanna broke off, hearing a knock at the door. "I have to go. Goddess bless."

Thom grinned. "You too. And now you've figured out this spell, I can always send to you if I need to." Alanna smiled and quickly whispered the words to end the spell, before going to the door.

Tat stood outside. "I just realised you haven't been to the market at the City of the Gods yet, and since tomorrow is that rarity of rarities, a rest day and market day when neither of us have punishments to serve, I thought you might like me to take you."

Alanna grinned, looking forward to a change of scenery, even it was only a different angle to look at the mountains that surrounded the convent. "Definitely. Sounds like fun."

"Go to bed then. It takes a while to get there and we'll have to be back by sunset. Goodnight."

Alanna shut the door, and crossed to her bed, suddenly realising how very tired she was.

_That sending must have tired me more than I thought._ She realised sleepily as she healed her thumb before climbing into bed fully clothed.

***

They set off at first light the next day, with Sophia with them as their chaperone. 

By the time they had reached the city, it was well into the morning, and by the time they got through the crowd at the gates, Alanna was content to simply let Tat guide her though the crowd as Sophia set off to do some shopping of her own, agreeing to met them at midday by the fountain that stood at the centre of the marketplace.

By midday the two girls were laden with purchases, and well away from the fountain they had agreed to meet Sophia at.

Glancing a small side alley that was less crowded, they made their way over to it, sighing with relief as the amount of people around them thinned. Just as they were applauding themselves on finding such a convenient shortcut, they heard a low snicker behind them. They both whirled round, coming to face with several not particularly attractive looking boys.

"What do we have here?"

Another two boys stepped out from behind them.

"What do _you_ want?" Alanna hoped she sounded more confident them she felt.

"What's the matter, don't you want to play, you little noble brat?"

"Not really."

The boy sneered. "Too bad." He stepped up to her. Quick as lightning, Alanna's reflexes came onto play and she hit him - hard - on the nose.

The boy roared. "Get them!" and the gang rushed at Alanna and Tat. Tat hit one over the head with her a bag containing her more heavy purchases, while Alanna kneed another in a very painful area, before ramming one in the guts as he reached for Tat, who threw a ball of her own brand of wood green fire at another boy. "Run!" she yelled as Toffee and Vixen snorted and pawed the ground menacingly as they advanced on the boys.

Bursting out of the alley, Toffee and Vixen close behind, they came face to face with Sophia. "Great Goddess, what happened to you two?" She gasped, and Alanna suddenly realised that both their dresses were dirty and torn, Tat had a cut above one pale eyebrow, and someone had evidently hit her cheek, which felt very tender.

They rode back to the convent in silence, and as soon as they were through the gates Sophia took them both off to the healers, despite protests from both that they were fine.

At the infirmary, healer priestesses caused what Alanna considered to be an unnecessary fuss over her cheek, which by then felt numb, and a few other cuts and bruises, before putting them both to bed for the night under the watchful eyes of the healers.

*** 

Sophia looked at the First Daughter. "First Daughter, she simply _must_ be taught. Both girls have a perchant for getting into trouble, but Alanna _will_ fight even if she's outnumbered. She must be taught to use her abilities properly, before that tendency gets her into more danger than if has already."

"I agree. Very well, you may teach lady Alanna to fight, and lady Tatiana as well if you wish."

Sophia nodded, grateful. In the time since she had arrived, she had grown to care for Alanna very much. "Thank you, First Daughter."


	6. The Sickness

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: C'mon people, don't you get it? It's not mine! All these wonderful characters belong to the third, non-Australian, non-British goddess of fiction, Tamora Pierce. I'm just borrowing (except for some that I made up.)

Chapter six: The Sickness

Alanna grunted slightly as Tat's staff swung down against hers, which gave slightly before holding. She threw the other girls staff off her own and, backing off slightly, circled warily. She had had a little more training than Tat in the fighting arts, and was more naturally talented in them, but the older girl's greater height and weight meant that Tat could and occasionally did defeat her, given the right circumstances and if she was paying attention.

Alanna smiled slightly despite herself. Paying attention was something Sophia often yelled at Tat for not doing during a fight. _Which is what I should be doing right now. I don't need any more bruises, I'm sore enough already._

Seeing an opening, Tat dove in, and Alanna, mentally cursing herself as she hastily parried, slamming her staff vertically against Tat's, and in one swift movement flipped it around and pulled so that Tat's staff came flying out of her hands and into Alanna's.

"Interesting move, lady Alanna."

Alanna gasped in surprise at the First Daughter as she walked forward out of the shadows, and hastily bowed, remembering just in time that she wasn't wearing a dress. Beside her, Tat's face had lost it's usual mischievous look as she too, bowed.

"You both fought well, although you, lady Tatiana, would be wise to remember to keep a firm grip on your staff, although I must say you are doing well for one so new to the it."

Tat blushed, cheeks and forehead turning a dark pink as she bowed slightly again, murmuring her thanks for the First Daughters compliment.

She turned to talk to talk to Sophia, who signalled to them in the hand language used by Daughters who had taken a vow of silence, which she had been teaching them over the last few months, to go and wash up. 

Tat grinned and retrieved her staff from near Alanna's feet, where she had dropped it in surprise when the First Daughter spoke, and nudged Alanna slightly in the ribs with it. "Well fought, _lady_ Alanna."

"You too, _lady_ Tatiana." Alanna shot back with a grin, knowing Tat disliked the 'lady' titles they were addressed by as much as she did.

Tat snorted and threw a mock punch at Alanna's shoulder, which she easily dodged, catching Tat's hand twisting her arm back.

"Girls!" 

Both of them spun, catching sight of Sophia glaring at them from over the First Daughters shoulder. "I told you I would teach you both to fight on the condition that you kept you abilities for the training courts!"

"Sorry Sophia," Tatiana said, grinning pertly, until the First Daughter turned around, and she lost the grin as she bit her lip and hurried to the door.

***

"Wonder what _that's _about." Tat said a few days later at dinner, tossing her pale head towards the head table, where the Daughters sat, all looking unusually grave at whatever it was the First Daughter was telling them. Even Sophia had lost her customary smile as she sat forward, listening intently.

"No idea." Alanna replied, playing with the end of her fiery plait thoughtfully as she considered casting a listening spell to see what they could pick up, then hastily disregarded the idea as she caught sight of priestess Katerina, who would no doubt have her doing punishments for the rest of the year if she listened in on something as important as this obviously was. "They'll probably tell us eventually if they think we should know." She added as she took another bite of her dinner.

Tat sighed derisively. "Who, them? They wouldn't tell us if the convent was about to be stormed by Scanrans, they're so secretive. And so nosy about anything _we_ do."

"Well, that last one's right at least." agreed Rhiannon of Ruatha's Gorge, a fief centred around the deep gorge that carved from the mountains by the Ruatha, a river that weaved in and out of the mountains that divided Tortall from Scanra, and which neighboured Alanna's home fief of Trebond.

Rhiannon had grown up with four older sisters, and as a consequence lacked Tat and Alanna's interest in weapons and fighting, but she was a keen rider, who Alanna had meet a few times before coming to the convent, and the three girls got along well, although Alanna wasn't as close to Rhiannon as she was to Tat or her brother.

Alanna nodded, "You've got a point, although I think they _would _tell us if Scanrans were attacking us. "

Rhiannon shook her head, then brushed honey coloured hair out of her dark hazel eyes. "No they wouldn't, Alanna. They'd think you'd go and try to fight them off yourself."

"And she would too," commented Tat from beside Alanna, poking her fork at Rhiannon for emphasis, and then releasing it as a servant pulled it out of her hands, picking up her now empty plate as she did so.

Alanna scowled. "No I wouldn't. Believe it or not, I _do _know when I'm out numbered."

"Do you?" Tat asked. 

Alanna scowled, but before she could reply the First Daughter stood up, cleared her throat and rapped on the table for attention.

"Looks like they _are_ going to tell us what's going on, after all." Rhiannon murmured, as the dining hall fell silent, even Delia ceasing her chatter as the First Daughter began to speak.

"Young ladies, gentlemen," here she nodded towards the table where the few boys at the convent - mages in training - sat "I have grave news. Of late a sickness, named the Sweating Sickness by the healers in Corus, has begun to spread through the city. While it has not yet reached the palace, our Sisters in the city tell us that it is extremely contagious and asked for our prayers that those who contract it may be healed. I know a number of you have relations there, and in addition to praying for healing, I suggest you also pray that they stay healthy. You are dismissed."

As the First Daughter sat down again, a buzz of concerned chatter grew throughout the hall. Rhiannon was absentmindedly chewing a nail, her mind no doubt on the two sisters she had who were currently living in Corus, and Tat was biting her lip almost hard enough to draw blood. She had an older brother in Corus, Alanna dimly remembered through a haze of worry for Thom.

Hurrying back to her rooms after giving Tat and Rhiannon a hurried goodnight, Alanna settled down before the fire, drawing her boot dagger and allowing it to hover over her finger. And hesitated. Alanna frowned. _What's wrong with me? I've never been afraid of getting a little cut before. And I have to know if Thom's alright._

_Conserve your magic, for you will have need of it soon._

Alanna blinked in surprise, looking around for the owner of the voice. Was it a voice? I t seemed like a voice and a thought and the whisper of wind blowing through leaves all at once. Looking down at her hands again, she started in surprise as she realised that she had unconsciously re-sheathed her dagger, her finger uncut.

Sighing in disgust, Alanna got up, deciding to obey the invisible speakers suggestion that she conserve her magic - for now, anyway. After all, the First Daughter _had_ said that the sickness hadn't reached the palace yet, and that was where Thom was.

***

The broom hit the floor with a clatter as Thom dropped it, startled by the ring of the bell in the black god's temple that signified another ten had died in the city. At the beginning it had rung for every person who died, but so many had fallen to the sickness that it now rang for each ten. 

The sickness had finally entered the palace, striking at servant and noble alike. Even the queen had fallen ill, though she was recovering, and all the pages and squires had been set to do the work normally done by the servants who fell ill or died from it.

Francis was sick. He had, or so Thom was told, been worse of than many others. He wouldn't know himself, since the healers had ordered them all to keep away, for fear of anyone else catching it.

Later that night, as Thom slept, the bell rang, seeming in his dreams to be much and clearer then normal. As he woke, he realised it wasn't just the in his dreams it had seemed louder, it was. And that could mean only one thing - the bell in the palace had been rung, someone in the palace had just died.

Stumbling to open the door to the frantic knocking, he opened to admit a wide-eyed messenger. His message sent a chill through Thom's body - Francis was dead. 

A few days later, Thom realised that Francis might not yet be the only one to die of the sickness, when Coram came to tell him that the prince had fallen ill.

***

~ _She was standing in a room full of people, wailing prayers and waving incense in the air as they surrounded a bed in which a boy a few years older then her lay, his face fevered and slick with sweat._

_She clenched her teeth in anger. What are they doing? She thought. How can anyone get well in this - this - circus!_

_"Get them out." The angry whisper seemed somehow familiar, and she turned, starting in surprise as she saw Thom next to her. ~_

***

"Get them out." It was all Thom could think of to say when he saw the people surrounding Jon's bed. _The idiots!_ "Please, sir Myles." He added as the old knight nodded, while Thom darted away through the crowd, for once glad of the small frame that allowed him to slip under peoples arms and through the spaces between the clusters of people, to come to Jon's bedside. He noted his friend's fevered face, recalling all Maude had ever taught him about fevers, and wishing that Alanna, who had always found the non-magical, and sometimes the magical side of healing easier then him was with him.

Sighing with relief as the people left the room, Thom quickly set about doing what he could to heal his friend.

Several days later, Thom frowned, shaking his head. He had done all he could in the way of natural healing, which couldn't work, since it was obvious by now that this sickness wasn't natural. And, what was worse, it had been draining his magic ever since he began to try and heal the prince, so he didn't have enough magic left to try anything drastic, which by now was all that was left which could save Jon. No magic. _Unless …_ Alanna would have to understand. Gathering his thoughts, Thom reached out through the magical link that bound him to Alanna …

***

Alanna settled down on her knees in front of the fire, readying her magic. She couldn't wait any more … she _had_ to know how Thom was.

Suddenly, she felt a mental yank, as if her magic was being torn out of her.  Doing the only thing she could, she grabbed onto it mentally, then immediately regretted her decision as she felt herself being pulled out of her body, trailing along behind her magic.

_Alanna help!_

With a suddenness that astounded her, Alanna felt her feet touch the ground again. She glanced up, and realised with a start that she wasn't in her room at the convent. Thom was standing in front of her with his eyes closed, wearing the expression that she recognised as him doing magic. Suddenly he shook his head impatiently, and opened his eyes. And screamed. Quietly, granted, but still a scream.

"Thom, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Silently he pointed to her, and looking at her hands, she almost screamed herself. Her hands were - only slightly, but still - _transparent_.

"What did you _do _to me?" she demanded, horrified.

"I didn't do anything to you! I just needed to borrow some of your magic."

"And I grabbed onto it. Why did you need to borrow my magic anyway?"

"Jon. He - he's dying. I tried to heal him, but I don't have enough magic to. You were always the better one at healing."

Alanna frowned, crossing over to the bed. Gasping, she recognised the boy from her dream. He looked even worse than before. Reaching out with her Gift, she winced as a dim echo of the pain her was feeling reached her. 

Shaking her head, she returned to Thom. Glancing at the packets of herbs on the table. She gulped. "There's only one thing we can do." 

Picking up a packet of vervain, she crossed to the fire, pulling Thom's arm as she did so.

Tossing the vervain on the fire, she began to recite the spell. Realising what she was doing, Thom joined in speaking the last few lines. The pain was incredible. 

And the voice. It was the same one that had spoken to her before, telling her to conserve her magic.

Gripping one of the prince's shoulders with one had, and reaching across him to gab Thom's hand, who had reached across to hold hers from his side of the prince's bed.

_They were floating in a black well, the prince below them._

_The black god stood between them. Thom walked forward, gripping her hand tightly, and spoke to the god._

_Nodding, the god disappeared. Taking the prince's hand, Thom looked towards her, and they floated out of the well._

It was gone. All of it. Her reserves of her Gift were completely gone. She looked up at Thom, before her eyes rolled up in her head, and she was flying through the air.

Vaguely feeling herself settle back into her body, she keeled over unconscious in front of the fire.


	7. Enter the Dragon

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer : Tortall and it's inhabitants (and gods) belong to the great Tamora Pierce, except so far for anything to do with Eagles Reach, the priestesses, Rhiannon belongs to herself (she's basically a friend of mine if she had been born and raised in Tortall), and the name Ruatha is borrowed from the Dragons of Pern books. Oh, and Tat and Toffee are completely mine, so if for some bizarre reason you want to borrow them for anything, please ask first.

Chapter seven: Enter the Dragon

Alanna opened her eyes, trying without success to bring the blurry faces above her into focus, then closed them again, wondering what had happened. She vaguely remembered settling down in front of the fire, and then … she was sure it wasn't a dream, but how could what she thought had happened have actually happened? Her brother, the prince, the healing … all of it. _Magic, _she thought, feeling sick at the power that had been unleashed. _Was I even in control of it? Or was it just chance, or maybe Thom. It couldn't have been me. I don't have that sort of power. I don't _want_ that sort of power!_

"Alanna?"

Her eyes opened, and the faces above her swam into focus as a hand touched her temple. Tat, Rhiannon, Sophia, even the First Daughter were clustered around her, all wearing almost identical expressions of concern. The First Daughter removed her hand from Alanna's temple. "How are you, child?"

Alanna blinked slowly. "Not too bad, First Daughter. Where am I?"

"The infirmary." Tat said. "By the Goddess, you scared us, Alanna. Sophia came to us at breakfast and told us Maude had found you keeled over unconscious in front of you fire, looking half dead. You've been asleep here for the better part of a week!"

Alanna started up. "A week! That's impossible!" _And being pulled out of you body to save someone's life by your brother isn't?_

"You were, actually. Delia started spreading this ridiculous rumour that you'd somehow caught the Sweating Sickness, until Tat _suggested_ she keep her mouth shut and learn something about healing before making a diagnosis." Replied Rhiannon as she gently pushed Alanna down again. Alanna grinned, realising what sort of persuasion Rhiannon had meant when she said Tat had made her suggestion. Delia had learned that Alanna and Tat were both more than capable of retaliating to her nasty comments, and this gave them some sort of advantage, although Delia wouldn't hesitate in running to Clothilde if she gained any proof that they were behind the pranks they played on her, which limited what they were able to do.

"Go now, ladies, lady Alanna no doubt needs her rest to recover." Alanna was about to protest that she wasn't tired at all, but the look on the First Daughter's face made her close her mouth again without saying anything. Tat and Rhiannon bent down to hug her, before curtsying to the priestess and being shooed out the door by Sophia, who followed them, shutting the door with an audible click.

"What _really_ happened, lady Alanna?"

The bluntness of the First Daughter's question all but took Alanna's breath away. "I don't know, First Daughter."

"Don't be coy, lady Alanna." Alanna gulped. "You have the Gift, do you not?"

Wondering what was going on, Alanna nodded. _Does she know?_ she wondered, _Could she?_

"You are aware, then, that often when a person performs magic you can see it, as a coloured substance."

Puzzled, Alanna nodded again. Even the unGifted knew that.

The First Daughter continued. "The Goddess has granted me the ability to see magic on those occasions when most people would _not_ be able to see it, and when magic has been recently performed. When I came here after your maid found you, you were glowing with the residue of your magic - and - it was interlaced with silver magic. The colour of the mark of the gods is silver, did you know?"

Feeling sick, Alanna shook her head. The thought of being surrounded by that much magic while she was unconscious terrified her.

"It is my guess that you attempted to call on the greater powers - the Gods, for the sake of some spell, and made a mistake in it. Am I right?"

Alanna stared fixedly at the blanket covering her. Her hands plucked at a loose thread. "No, First Daughter, I wouldn't attempt that sort of magic for no reason. I hate using my magic for almost anything, in fact. I don't want the Gift."

A hand under her chin gently pulled her head up until she was staring into the First Daughter's eyes. "Please don't make me tell you what happened." She pleaded. She felt fingers gently probing her thoughts briefly and then the First Daughter nodded. Standing, she smiled down at Alanna. "You should be back on your feet and in class soon. Get some rest, lady Alanna."

Alanna nodded and lay back.

***

Jumping down from Toffee, Alanna turned to grin at Rhiannon. "Enjoying your first trip to the City of the Gods, Rhia?"

She laughed. "I wouldn't know, since we only just got here."

"You will." Assured Tat from her other side. It had been a month since Alanna had healed the prince of the Sweating Sickness, and the First Daughter had decided she was well enough to give in to Alanna and Tat's pleading and allow them to go to the City of the Gods. Since Rhiannon had been in the convent for four months and not seen the city, the two girls had asked if they could show their younger friend around it. They had been to the city several times since Alanna's first time, and their collective instinct for mischief meant that they had come to know the city very well.

Alanna glanced across at Sophia. She didn't often accompany the girls to the city, although she was in a sense their 'guardian priestess,' the priestess whom they went to for help or to ask permission to do something like go riding in the woods in their free time. This time, however, she had come along to replenish some healing supplies, since she, in addition to taking both Gifted and unGifted for healing, also worked in the convent infirmary.

Sophia smiled. "Go on then," she said. "I'm sure you've lots of things you want to do today before we head back to the convent. Be sure to stick to our schedule." She shouted after them as all three remounted and began to trot off.

"Yeah Sophia. The central square at an hour past midday!" Tat shouted with a wave over her shoulder at the young priestess as they trotted away.

As they reached the stalls, Alanna gently pulled on Toffee's reins to bring her to a halt. Much as she hated to admit it, her tough little pony was getting old, and could no longer do the sort of riding she was once capable of.

Scanning the crowd for a stall where Tat could purchase some cloth to have her maid make new breeches out of, since the combination of hard riding and fighting with Alanna on the practice courts meant all her old pairs were looking distinctly worse for wear, Alanna took the opportunity to observe some of the people there. Most of them were priests or sorcerers, or in training for that, but one in particular caught her eye. Tall and well muscled, he had the expression and stance of a warrior, although he bore no weapons. That and his hair, as copper as Alanna's own, made him stand out from the crowd, and Alanna felt a wave of curiosity sweep over her before Tat said that she had spotted a stall and Alanna turned Toffee to follow Vixen. When she looked back, the copper haired man was no longer visible, and, shaking her head, she dismissed thought of him from her mind, her attention claimed by Tat holding up some light, rough silk and doing a spirited imitation of Delia as she picked through silk, wool and linen to find appropriate cloth, soon drawing Alanna and Rhiannon into her search. When the girls finally left the stall, it was with a lot more cloth than they had originally meant to get, both Alanna and Rhiannon having decided they needed some new practical clothes to ride and fight in.

They continued to shop and made their way to the square where they had been told to meet Sophia, and told her of their purchases over lunch in an inn.

After lunch Sophia excused herself, saying she wanted to visit an old friend whom she hadn't seen in some time, and left, Alanna, Tat and Rhiannon set out again, this time leaving their mounts with Sophia's cream horse, Lady, (who was anything but) to allow them to explore more freely, having had enough of shopping.

They wandered down to the area of town that was mostly inhabited by the less fortunate servants, thoroughly enjoying themselves. It was only as Rhiannon pointed out that the sun was beginning to set that they suddenly realised they were late for their rendeverous with Sophia.

Hurrying back through the city, they found themselves in an area they didn't realise. Alanna's neck prickled as though she was being watched.

Alanna frowned. "We must have taken a wrong turning somewhere. C'mon, let's go back."

"I don't think so." A large black shape stepped out of the shadows and into the dingy light cast by an inn at the end of the street. Alanna frowned again, sure that she had heard the voice somewhere before, then involuntarily gasped as she recognised the boy who had been the ringleader of the pack who had attacked Alanna and Tat in Alanna's first visit to the city.

More boys - and some young men stepped out of the shadows. Beside her, Alanna saw Tat's eyes narrow at the sight of one. 

"That boy, I saw him before. Took one look at us and ran round the corner. He must've told them we were here."

The youths formed a circle around them and began to close in. Automatically Alanna and Tat shifted to stand back to back, Rhiannon between them.

Alanna's thoughts flew back to what she had said to them both a month ago. _I do know when I'm outnumbered._ Well, if ever she had known that, it was now. But her honour wouldn't allow her to give in without a fight, she realised a she blocked a punch and reached down for her boot dagger, wishing desperately for her staff, of anything she could use as one. She caught the knife of one attacker on her dagger, then slashed at him. The cut wouldn't kill him, something Alanna was glad of - she didn't really want to kill anyone, although it would put him out of action for a while and all hell broke loose as the gang realised what she had done to the boy.

They closed in, separating the girls. Using all of her speed, Alanna hopelessly tried to fend off her attackers. She heard Rhiannon scream and spun in that direction. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, two of the boys grabbed her, pinning her arms against her sides, and dragged her forwards. 

Looking around, she saw Tat and Rhiannon in similar positions.

The leader of the boys walked forward. "You've been very bad. Look what ye did to poor Timmy." He gestured to the boy Alanna had slashed, supported by two others. He drew back his fist and Alanna shrank away, waiting for the blow.

It never came.

The boy grunted. Alanna looked up, and saw that the man she had seen before had come up behind the youth and grabbed his wrist, holding back the boy's punch.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to hit girls?" he asked in a conversational tone. The flesh on the youth's wrist turned white and he stared at the man, pain showing in his face. "No?" the man enquired. "Well, now I have. I suggest you let them go."

The look on the youth's face now became one of fury, and he spun to attack the man, and then suddenly went flying backwards as the man kicked him in the stomach. Two well-aimed kicks had the boy's holding Alanna on their backs and she fell forward, surprised by the sudden release.  He turned and, lightning quick, administered the same treatment to a number of other youths. The rest ran as he turned to face them, not wanting to risk trying to fight him, and he turned back to Alanna. Up close, she could see that her was around mid- to late twenties, with an oft-broken nose, sensuous lips framed by a moustache and a variety of scars.

Extending a hand to her, he asked "You alright, lass?" as he gently pulled her up. She nodded, and he turned to pull up Tat and Rhiannon. The younger girl had a cut along one arm, shallow but long, and Alanna ran forward with a cry, ripping at her volumous sleave to make a bandage for it.

He looked them over. "You three look a bit young to be wandering these sorts of streets at night. Shouldn't you have a guardian with you?"

"We do. We were supposed to meet her a little while back but we got lost." Tat said.

He nodded. "I see. Where were you supposed to meet her?"

"Hang on." Alanna said, thinking, _true, he did just get rid of those brutes, but we know nothing about him, after all._ "I don't suppose you're going to tell us who you are."

The man grinned at her and Alanna had a sudden impulse that they could trust him. "So, you do seem to have some sense, after all." He bowed. "Liam Ironarm, Shang Dragon. _Now_ will you tell me where you were supposed to meet your guardian?"

Alanna was rendered speechless at the realisation they had just met the Shang Dragon, and Tat, seeing this, told him the name of the inn they were to meet Sophia at.

"I know where it is. I'm staying there in fact. I'll show you to it." He said, and beckoned for them to follow them as he walked down the street.

Sophia was waiting for them outside the inn, her young face creased with worry. She spun at the sound of their shoes on the stones, and ran towards them. "What happened to you? I told you to be here the best part of an hour ago!"

Liam bowed introducing himself, and explained what had happened, then turned towards the girls and bowed again. "Goodbye ladies," he said, before turning and walking into the inn.

Rhiannon bit her lip and Tat wrapped an arm around her, placing a hand on her cut to heal it enough so she wasn't in much pain for the ride home. 

Dismounting at the convent stables, Alanna looked over at Rhiannon and said, "Rhia, I don't care what you say, we're teaching you to defend yourself." Tat nodded agreement, and Sophia looked over at them sternly. "You two would be better off practising your own defence and leave the teaching to me, although after what happened last year it's entirely possible the First Daughter will never let you out of the convent again, you realise."

***

A week later, after their class on healing, Sophia motioned for Alanna to stay behind. Walking up to the desk, Alanna wondered what she had done.

"Alanna, the Fist Daughter wishes you to go to her office after dinner this evening. That's all."

Alanna nodded, wondering why the First Daughter wanted to see her, and related it to Tat and Rhiannon, who were waiting for her outside the door, to see if they could come up with anything as they walked to their next class.

After dinner that evening, Alanna said goodbye to Tat and Rhiannon, who walked off to do their homework together in Tat's room, as the three often went to one or the other's bedroom to work together.

Walking towards the doors of the First Daughter's office, Alanna stopped before the priestess standing beside it and asked to be let in. The woman nodded, Alanna walked into the office.

She stopped dead at the sight of the Shang Dragon sitting in a chair before the desk.

"Lady Alanna," the First Daughter said as Liam rose to bow to her. "I believe you have met the Shang Dragon, Liam Ironarm." Startled, Alanna nodded. "Sit down, child."

Alanna sat. Liam looked at her. Tell me, lady Alanna, what do you know of the Shang?"

Alanna frowned, gathering her thoughts, and began to tell what she knew - not a lot, she realised as she recited it.

Liam nodded as she finished. "True. The part about children not being accepted to study over seven, however, is what I wished to discuss with you. There have been cases - although they are rare, where a person has been accepted a few years over that age, if they have had previous weapons or fighting training, if it is believed they can keep up with the training. When I came upon you and your friends in the City of the Gods last week, I saw you fighting. The First Daughter tells me you are receiving training," Alanna nodded, "and from what I saw, you have potential. If you would like to, I would be willing to take you on as my student."

Alanna stared at him, mouth open. "You - you're offering to teach me Shang? To fight the way you do?"

"If you would want too. I must warn you it's difficult however."

Alanna nodded, grinning. "Yes, I want too. Very much."

"Lady Alanna." The First Daughter spoke quietly. "I have no objection to this, but you must understand that your father has given you into my care first and foremost to learn the skills of a noblewoman. This will be allowed, but only on the condition that it does not affect the rest of your work here."

Alanna nodded, dizzy with astonishment. _Anything to learn Shang!_ She thought, as the First Daughter dismissed her and she walked dazedly back to her rooms.

***

Alanna woke early the next morning to Sophia shaking her. "Sophia? What is it?" Sophia tossed her some breeches and a shirt. "I've been sent to get you, apparently your training is to start this morning."

"Now?" Alanna looked out the window. It was still dark.

"Yes, now. I suggest you get moving. It's not a good idea to keep anyone waiting at this time of morning, and the Dragon doesn't seem like the type to like waiting at anytime of the day."

Stumbling down to the practice courts, Alanna stifled a yawn.

Liam was already there. He nodded a curt "Good morning." and told her to warm up.

"Now," he said, when she had finished stretching, "let's see what you can do."

He got her to show him what she knew in a mock-fight, and then began to teach her a simple punch when that was done. This went on for an hour, and Alanna was exhausted by the end of it. "You'd better get going." Liam said at last. "Meet me here, at this time, every morning. Don't be late." He warned as she hurried of to change before breakfast.

And so it began. Mornings and other free time when he thought she needed it belonged to Liam, evenings to Sophia and homework and - if she had any left after practice and such, a bit of free time then, and the day was spent in classes. Alanna gradually got used to it, although the extra hours of physical work she did left her in no doubt as to why Thom, with his hatred of physical work, disliked his training so much, as she knew from his letters.


	8. Riding and Such

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: This is so stupid. Why would anyone think this is mine? I mean, come ON, it's on a site dedicated to fanfiction, under the category books - Tamora Pierce. It's not gonna be mine. You're all smart people - you figure out who it belongs to (hint: it has something to do with the category).

Chapter eight: Riding and Such

Alanna smiled as she watched her two best friends - Tat and Rhiannon, circling each other , staffs raised. Sophia had long since given up matching Rhiannon against Alanna on the courts, given that Alanna's speed and extra training with the Shang Dragon made it impossible for Rhiannon to win against her, and was usually disarmed in a matter of a few minutes at most.

Alanna leaned forward onto the railing. Even at this distance she could see Rhiannon wasn't putting as much effort into her movements as she could. Raising her voice, she shouted "C'mon Rhi, put some effort into it! You'll never win if you don't try!"

Shouting equally loudly, Rhiannon replied "Don't want to win! I don't care about this fighting thing one way or the other, you know!"

Taking advantage of a weak block on Rhiannon's part, Tat spun her staff to stop close to Rhiannon's neck, a blow none of them ever used at full speed, given that it would break the neck of the person on the receiving end if it connected hard enough.

"You won't be saying that when these lessons save your life down a dark alley one day," she said, as she lowered her staff.

"Yes, well, unlike you two, I have enough sense to stay _out_ of dark alleys, thank you very much." She said, nose in the air as she threw her staff at Alanna, who caught it with the ease of long practice, stifling a laugh at Rhiannon's expression.

"C'mon, o aspiring-warrior-maiden, let's see how you far against the ice princess."

Alanna smiled, tossing the staff back at Rhiannon's feet. "Oh no, you need the practice much more than I do, rider girl."

Rhiannon glared at her but Alanna simply smiled sweetly as she picked up the staff again with a sigh.

***

Alanna stopped just inside the doors to the dining hall, scanning the tables for Tat and Rhiannon, then spun at a tap on her shoulder.

"There you are. I was just looking for you. Where were you two?"

Rhiannon grinned as Tat rubbed her eyes. "In bed of course. It's a rest day, what else would we be doing?" she asked. "No doubt you were as well, so why did you even need to ask?"

"I wasn't. I've been down in the practice courts, going through my exercises." She replied as the three picked up trays and began to pile their breakfasts onto it.

Tat stared at her in surprise, a ladle filled with porridge suspended over her bowl. "But you told us the Dragon had left for some Shang thing or other. Why on earth were you practising?"

"Because," Alanna replied as she reached over to turn Tat's hand so the porridge dripped into her bowl. "If I don't, then when Liam comes back I'll be out of shape and he'll _know_ I haven't been practising, which is what he told me to do."

"But one day wouldn't make a difference, would it?" Rhiannon asked in her deep alto voice.

Alanna smiled, shrugging. "I was told practise makes perfect. I've yet to see it proved otherwise."

Tat snorted in disgust as she searched for three seats at the tables, and discovered that the only ones together were a few spaces down from where Delia and her little clique were sitting.

Plonking her tray down unceremoniously, she gestured Alanna and Rhiannon to take the seats beside her, which they did.

Delia paused in her nibbling of an orange to stare down her pert little nose at them. "So, you lads have decided to sit with us today? I'm sorry, this table is reserved for ladies."

Gritting her teeth at Delia's slur - 'lads' indeed! Alanna looked back at Delia, matching stare for stare. "Really? Then, whatever can _you _be doing here, Delia? I was under the impression noble ladies were taught to use their manners."

Beside her, Tat ducked her head away from Delia, grinning at her porridge.

"That is indeed so. However, we are intelligent enough to keep our manners for those deserving of them."

"Really," Drawled Rhiannon beside Alanna, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That must explain why you got such excellent marks in the test priestess Sophia gave us yesterday."

Delia turned an unattractive shade of mottled red, and Tat gave up and snorted loudly at her expression.

Alanna frowned in mock puzzlement. "Are you trying to colour coordinate your dress and you face, lady Delia? I was under the impression that pink silk and red noses didn't go well together."

Delia stood up, opening her mouth to shout some insult at Alanna - no doubt loudly enough for the whole hall to hear, but before she could, a priestess came over to see what was going on, and Tat sent her Gift at a pitcher of juice, knocking it over, and quickly told the priestess that Delia had knocked over the juice and stood up to prevent it getting on her dress, before Delia could say otherwise.

Glaring after the priestess, Delia turned her venomous gaze on Alanna. "You'll pay for that, you little Trebond bitch."

Alanna rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation with Tat and Rhiannon. She could pay Delia back for her comment later - and when they weren't in full view of the entire convent.

Discussing what they planned to do that day, Rhiannon brought up they idea of a ride through the woods not far from the convent, as they often did.

"I don't know about you two, but I don't really want to sit around being 'ladylike' all day, and somehow I don't think that we'll be allowed to go to the City of the Gods, for some reason."

The others agreed, and after breakfast was over, went up to Sophia to ask for a note giving them permission to take their mounts and go riding.

At the stables, clad in their riding clothes - breeches and a shirt, they encountered Clothilde, who was apparently in some sort of argument with the chief hostler.

She turned her gaze on them. "And where do you think you're going?" she asked imperiously.

"Out riding," Tat replied pertly. "we have permission from priestess Sophia." She added, handing Clothilde the note.

Clothilde scanned it and Alanna felt someone poke her arm. She turned to Rhiannon, who was pointing at Delia. The girl was standing beside Toffee, nonchalantly feeding her horse an apple with an eye on them, smirking as she reached out and stroked Toffee gently on the nose. Toffee sneezed, and Delia recoiled from the pony, the front of her dress spayed with pony spit.

"Toffs has got good taste," Rhiannon muttered, and Alanna grinned.

'You'll have to change, ladies. I will not allow to you go out dressed like that. You will go and put on dresses suitable to your rank." Clothilde announced, as the three, stifling groans, went to change.

***

Waling through the forest, Tat and Rhiannon chatted while Alanna sat quietly, distracted from their talk by the memory of their encounters with Delia that morning, both at breakfast and in the stables, and by Toffee's restive behaviour, which was most unlike the usually placid little mare.

Spotting a fallen tree trunk in a little clearing up ahead, Tat grinned and kicked Vixen into a canter, leaping over the big log with ease before circling back around to where Alanna and Rhiannon waited for her. She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken challenge and Rhiannon rolled her eyes, urging her dark brown mare, Beauty, forward to jump the tree. "Easy." She said and Tat snorted as Alanna bit her lip, knowing that it wasn't.

Tat looked over at her. "What about you, Alanna? You can try it on Vixen if you don't think Toffee's up to it."

Alanna looked down at her little pony, who looked up at her, dark eyes gleaming. She bit her lip and started to dismount, but Toffee shifted and she clung to the saddle to keep from falling off. "I don't think Toffs likes the idea of me riding another horse. What do think, girl? Reckon you could manage it?"

Toffee snorted and Alanna grinned.

"If you say so."

Kicking her forward, Alanna leaned low in the saddle, enjoying the feel of the wind blowing her loose hair out behind her like a fiery banner, and let out a whoop of joy as Toffee leapt over the log. She leant back to bring Toffee back to a walk, and screamed as little pony bucked wildly, leaping forward. She reared and Alanna's feet, clad as they were in thin soled slippers, slipped out of the stirrups. She bit her lip, fighting to keep her seat in the less-than-secure sidesaddle, then yelled as Toffee pitched sideways, throwing Alanna over the pony's head, to land on the ground some distance from the little mare.

Alanna looked up. 

"Toffee?" she whispered, crawling back towards her pony.

Rhiannon and Tat had dismounted and hurried forwards to her, but she barely noticed them. Toffee's leg was stuck in a rabbit hole, bent where no pony's leg was ever meant to bend. Alanna stared at the mare, wondering what had caused her to act like that, then spotted a trickle of blood trailing out from under the back of the saddle and down Toffee's flank.

Lifting the saddle, Alanna found a long, cruel looking tapestry needle buried almost up to the thread the hooked it into the saddle in her pony's back. Staring at it in horror, she pulled it out. Tat gasped. "Talk about finding a needle in a haystack." She said, taking it from Alanna's nerveless fingers.

Alanna crawled around to cradle Toffee's head in her lap, stroking it gently, as Rhiannon knelt to examine the pony's leg.

"That's a bad break. Toffs is old, and that wouldn't heal properly even if we did somehow manage to get her out and back to the convent. None of us can use our Gift to heal animals. It would be kinder to -"

"No!" Alanna stared at her. "I can't." her voice broke on the last word, and she felt the tears that had been gathering in her eyes spill down her cheeks.

She ducked her head, looking into Toffee's huge dark eyes, filled with pain. Toffee keened in agony, a sound that ripped into Alanna's heart and soul. How could she kill Toffee?

"Alanna." Tat's hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look up into Tat's grey green eyes, shining with tears. "She's in a lot of pain. I'll do it, if you're not able to." Tat's voice was filled with compassion, and Alanna glanced down at Toffee again.

"I'm sorry, girl." She whispered, stroking her soft muzzle.

 She looked up at Tat. "Do it." she looked away, tears streaming down her face as Tat's dagger bit into Toffee's throat, crimson blood staining the dark earth.

***

"Delia did it, I know she did. She was in the stable when we went to go riding. And it's just the sort of thing she would do, putting a needle in Toffee's tack." Alanna paced the room as she said it, fighting tears. It had been a week since Toffee had died in the clearing - _since we killed her_, a part of Alanna's mind whispered, and although she had accused Delia of it in front of the First Daughter, she had no more proof than what she, Tat and Rhiannon had seen, and Clothilde had defended Delia, claiming that the girl had done no such thing.

Since then Alanna had been attending riding lessons on fussy, ill tempered old gelding belonging to the convent, who liked it no more than Alanna did, and made every lesson as difficult as possible.

She had told Thom about it when he had sent to her in the fire two nights ago, and he had been sympathetic, although more concerned over her refusal to use her Gift after the healing then Toffee's death, Alanna admitted to herself. 

"Are you sure it was Delia? Yes, she's vindictive, but doing that when she knew that Alanna or Toffee could be seriously hurt of even killed?" Rhiannon asked from her chair by the fire.

"You don't know the feud between those two like I do. Delia would do that if she got the chance. She probably cackled about it all the way back to her room." Tat disagreed looking at Alanna concernedly. "Are you alright, 'Lanna?" 

Alanna nodded, not trusting her voice to be steady, and tugged on the end of her braid.

Tat stood up, and coming over to Alanna, wrapped her arms around the tiny girl's shoulders, hugging her. "Don't worry, we'll find a way to prove Delia did it somehow."

***

Thom grinned as he, Jonathan and Gary rode down the street where he had first met George, remembering. He and Gary had been walking down the street when Thom had suddenly realised his belt purse felt considerably lighter. Catching sight of an urchin running down the street away from him, Thom had stopped him with his Gift and approached him. He had known by the boy's thoughts that he was lying, and had been about to convince him why it wasn't wise to lie to Thom of Trebond, when George had arrived on the scene. He had told the urchin to give Thom's money back, and had convinced Thom to forget about it, and had invited them both to have a drink him.

Since then, Thom had introduced Jonathan and Raoul to George, and all four had become friends with the thief. Gary's father, the duke, had decided that they had earned the day off, (Raoul was working extra hours in the stables for a prank he had pulled on some of the other squires,) and, as had become their custom when they went down to the city, they were headed for the dancing dove for lunch.

Entering, George spotted them at his table near the fire and, rising, beckoned for them to join him.

"Greetin's, lads. What brings you here today?"

"Why, the pleasure of your fine company, of course, your majesty." Said Gary, grinning as he seated himself, ordering a tankard of ale from a barmaid who appeared next to them.

"And the usual for you two?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at the young prince, who she was very much taken with, as Thom hid a grin, nodding as Jon did the same beside him. George, however, chuckled, and the barmaid blushed as she hurried off to fetch their order. "That's the longest amount of time I've ever seen Nelly taken with the one person, Johnny me lad. Quite the compliment to you."

Jon grinned. "Indeed it is."

The barmaid arrived with the drinks and Jon jokingly winked at her, much to the amusement of his friends.

"Drink," ordered George. "You must be parched if you walked here from the palace."

"We didn't." Thom replied. "We rode."

"Ah. That reminds me of something. Didn't you tell me that pony of yours was getting on a bit, Thom."

Thom nodded. "Chubbby's getting to old to be ridden, which is a problem. I really should get a horse but I haven't got around to it yet. Why do you ask?" he queried curiously. 

George chuckled. "I brought a couple of new horses the other day, and I intended to send a message up to Stefan for you to see if you wanted to have a look, since one of them would probably suit you down to the ground, but you saved me the job by coming down today."

Thom nodded. "Thanks. I'd like to have a look. After lunch though." He added as their lunch arrived, smelling as appetising as much of the food the pages and squires normally ate at the palace.

After lunch, George took them to the dancing doves stables, and led Thom to a handsome chocolate brown gelding with large intelligent eyes and a mane and tail threaded with gold.

"This is the fellow I wanted to show you. He calm, and not afraid of magic, which would be necessary for a horse for you."

Thom nodded, looking the horse over. "I don't know much about horses. Is this a good one?"

Jon and Gary both looked the horse over. "Nice," commented the prince. "I'd like a horse like that myself."

"So would I," added Gary, but I've already got one."

George raised an eyebrow. "I got this one as well, Jon, if you wanted to have a look at him." he said, steering the prince over to a large black stallion in the stall next to the gelding.

Thom's attention was caught by a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see a silver-white mare with a pale, pale gold mane and tail staring over the top of her stall door at him with enormous amber eyes flecked with gold that were twins to the eyes of the gelding her was petting.

Walking over to her, he could see that she was a beauty, and he thought of something.

"George," he called. "Is this one for sale too?"

George came over. "You don't want her, lad. She's too high strung for you. You wouldn't be able to manage that one, even if she is a beauty."

"No, not for me," Thom murmured, gently reaching out a hand to her. "I meant I'd like to buy her with the gelding, for someone else."

George looked sceptical, and named his price. "That's for the both of them, with tack. For the gelding, it'd be half that."

Thom frowned. George reached out to pet the mare, and said. "They've got lovely eyes, haven't they? She's sister to the gelding, you know." And that made up Thom's mind. 

He looked at George. "I don't have the money with me, but I'll come down in two days."

George raised his eyebrows. "You're getting both of them?'

Thom nodded.

Jon spoke up at that point. "I'll come with him. I'll take the stallion."

"And so you shall," interrupted Gary. "But not if we don't get a move on, because if we're not back at the palace within the next bell, my honoured father will have us doing punishments for the next month for being late."

Realising he was right, the boys bid George goodbye and headed back to the palace.

Later that night, in his room, Thom carefully forged a letter from his father to the treasurers at the palace, allowing Thom to withdraw the amount of money required for the two horses from the inheritance stored in a trust fund for the twins from their dead mother.

***

Two days later, true to their word, Thom and Jon walked down to the dancing dove to collect the horses, Thom with the money the palace treasurers had given him after he had given them this 'father's' letter.

They took the horses after having a drink with George, and left them at them palace stables to go and complete the homework they had been set that day.

After that was done, Thom took out a fresh piece of paper and loaded his quill, before beginning to write.

_Sister dear,_

_I know you feel that nothing could replace Toffee, but as you told me of the foul-tempered beast you are currently riding, I assumed you needed a horse. Please don't feel that I'm being insensitive by sending you this one, as you would have needed a new horse anyway even if Toffee hadn't died. I found her while getting my own horse, and George, who sold them to me, tells me they're siblings. At least now you can continue your mad obsession with riding. She's not named, George told me, and I leave those honours to you. I'm sorry I didn't have time to make this longer but I will send to you soon._

_Much love, Thom._

The next day before breakfast, Thom hurried down to the stables and had the mare sent, along with his letter and one to the chief hostler at the convent, to the convent.

***

Alanna squirmed uncomfortably in the saddle of the gelding she had been riding for the past month. Liam had intended to start her on the rudimentaries of horseback fighting when he got back, but he could hardly do it if she was still riding this brute, as Tat called the spotted gelding, when he got back.

Climbing down, she attempted to remove his bridle and was rewarded for her efforts by a nip on the shoulder.

Coming over to her, one of the lads took the gelding's reins out of her grasp, grinning sympathetically. "I'll take care of 'im. Ye want to go over t' the chief and the ridin' priestess." He said, winking.

Wondering what he meant, Alanna walking over to the priestess who instructed them all in riding, and curtsied.

"I was told to come and see you, priestess."

"Ah, yes," said the priestess, Catherine, looking her over. Alanna was one of her favourite students. "This is for you."

Taking it, puzzled, Alanna saw the seal her brother used on it. Breaking it open, she quickly read the contents.

"It arrived today, along with another for the hostler here and your new horse, from Corus."

She gestured behind her to reveal the most beautiful horse Alanna had ever seen.

"She - she's mine?' Alanna whispered, reaching out gingerly to stroke the horse's soft pale grey muzzle.

"Unless there be some other Alanna of Trebond staying here that I don't know about." Said the hostler. She looked at him, grinning.

Hearing a low whistle behind her, Alanna turned to see Tat and Rhiannon walk up. "What a beauty." Rhiannon whispered. "Who's is she?"

"Mine." Alanna replied.

"She's gorgeous," said Tat. "What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one. I'm to choose it."

"So … what will it be?"

Alanna frowned thoughtfully. "I think I'll call her Luna."

***

About two weeks after Thom had brought Luna, when Raoul had finally finished his punishment, he, Gary, Jon and Raoul sat in the dancing dove with George, discussing events both in town and at the palace.

"Thom and his new horse - what'd you call him?" 

"Mage," answered Thom.

"Mage," continued Raoul, "seem to have appeased the duke, since he gets on better with that one than the palace one he used to ride."

"Glad to hear it." said George. "By the way, what did you do with that mare I sold you, Thom? Who'd you give her to?"

"My sister." Came the answer.

George slammed his mug down. He stared at Thom. "Tell me you're joking lad."

Thom shook his head. "No, I'm not."

George's mouth fell open. "You idiot! That's not a horse for a soft young noble lady! Some warriors I know couldn't handle a horse like that!"

"George, calm down. Alanna's anything but a soft young noble lady. She's a superb rider, and from what she's told me, to all appearances she's completely head over heals for it. I checked on her in the fire yesterday, and as far as I saw, the feeling's mutual. I wouldn't give my twin sister a horse I didn't know she'd be able to handle. Alanna called the mare Luna, by the way."

George looked at him. "I hope you're right, Thom."

***

Leaning low over Luna's neck, Alanna yelled over her shoulder at Tat and Rhiannon. "Catch me if you can, girls!"

Since Thom had sent her to Alanna, in addition to riding her in class, Alanna had also ridden Luna out with Beauty and Vixen, with Tat and Rhiannon, and  everyone agreed that the six of them made a striking view,  but this was the first time Alanna had got to test Luna's speed. The surefooted mare galloped across the valley they had gone to, outrunning the other two horses in the race, and had impressed Rhiannon very much, something Alanna appreciated, knowing how much the girl knew about horses.

They had agreed to have a final race back to the convent, although all knew by now that Luna would win, and Luna slowed to a walk as they entered the gate, Alanna sitting tall on her back. 

Tat laughed as she came up behind Alanna. "You look quite the little noblewoman there, Alanna."

Alanna grinned at her, sticking her nose in the air and putting on the most proud, vain expression she could manage, before dissolving into giggles.

They dismounted and Alanna took out a currycomb, brushing down Luna as  she told Tat and Rhiannon about her lesson with Liam that morning, before the three of them went inside for their dinner and the evening lesson with Sophia.

Grinning at the memory of riding Luna across the valley, Alanna climbed into her bed, and mentally reminded herself to write to Thom the next day, before falling asleep.


	9. Changes

**One of a kind**

Disclaimer: Can't be bothered thinking up a creative disclaimer so I'll just go with the old reliable. THIS ISN'T MINE! None of the recognisable stuff is mine.

Chapter Nine: Changes

Raoul helped himself to another slice of meat, grinning at his young friend as he did so, before offering the platter to Thom.

Shaking his head, Thom laughed. "I don't have a bottomless appetite, you know."

Raoul raised an eyebrow, and, mimicking the tone Duke Gareth used when saying such things, boomed "And how, young Thom, are you ever going to get enough flesh on your bones to be a proper knight if you don't eat something?"

"I eat plenty," he replied. "It's just -" he broke off as the real Duke stood up from his seat at the head of the mess hall. The Duke cleared his throat for attention, before beginning to speak.

"As all of you are aware, the squires are required to complete a group expedition every year, in preparation for their Ordeal. This year's expedition will depart in one week's time, to the city of Persopolis. That is all."

Jon turned back towards them, leaning on the back of his chair. "Well, gentlemen, it's seems we'll finally get the chance to find out whether or not Persopolis is really all Douglass claimed it is." Seated partway down the table from Jon, Douglass tried to protest, resulting in Geoffrey, who was sitting opposite him, being showered in peas. 

The older knights who supervised the training of the pages and squires had long since given up on trying to make the pages and squires sitting there from sitting, as was usual, with their own training groups, though Geoffrey and Douglass were not as good friends with the others than Thom, who always seemed older than his fourteen years, at least mentally.

"Sounds like fun." Commented Gary as his sire dismissed them all. "Wish you were coming with us, Thom."

Jon frowned. "That's true. I wonder if between us we could convince your honoured father to let him come along?" Gary's face took on a wolfish grin as he replied with a flippant, "Never know till we try." And together they set off down the hall to where the Duke's office was located.

***

"Now bring it back down … _watch your side!"_ Liam yelled as Alanna went through her sword exercises. "You must _always_ keep your guard, even in an exercise, so that it becomes habit." 

Alanna nodded tiredly. She hadn't expected fighting with a sword to be so hard, and, while she was fairly good now, she had been a disaster the first time she had picked up the simple practice sword Liam had given her.

Liam glared at her. "Alanna, listen to me. You have the speed and skill to be much better than you are right now, but it will be difficult if you want to be the best. If you want to be a Shang, then you have to be able to do this."

Alanna nodded again, then went into the appropriate starting position, this time careful to

make no mistakes. Liam smiled approvingly, his dragon's eyes turning a warm green as she finished, then made her repeat it again, three times, each time with no mistakes, before picking up his own sword and placing himself in a defensive position, indicating for Alanna to attack him. Which she did.

Kicking away Liam's arm as his sword swooped towards the 'kill' position, she thrust her sword at his chest, noting how his eyes widened briefly in surprise before he knocked it aside before she was in a position in which she could do him any real harm, then stepping back to indicate a draw.

He grinned, briefly. "You _are_ getting good. That'll do for tonight. You better go now."

She nodded, and left, grinning in elation over having done so well in her fight with Liam.

"So it ended in a draw? Well done, 'Lanna!" Tatiana grinned, settling back in her chair. Rhiannon glanced up from her book of spells. "Yes," she said. "Meanwhile…" reaching for Alanna's simple plait, she examined it critically. "Your hair's a mess." She finished. Tat giggled. "She's right, Alanna. It looks like a bird's nest."

"It does not." Alanna protested, attempting to free her hip length plait, which Rhiannon was beginning to undo, while Tat collected brush, comb, and hairpins.

"Hey!" she shouted, feeling a brush yank through her hair.

Tat glanced down at her. "Resistance is futile, Alanna."

When she realised that she had no escape from her extremely determined friends, Alanna gave up, until Tat, with a final pin jabbed in, announced, "It's done."

Looking into the mirror, Alanna had to concede that her friend had done a good job, even if the sophisticated hairdo _did_ look a bit odd with her breeches and shirt. "It needs a gown," Rhiannon announced, disappearing into Tat's dressing room, then reappearing with a pale lavender dress in her hands.

"Go on," Tat said as Rhiannon deposited it in Alanna's arms. "Let's see how you look."

"You're too tall," Alanna protested, raising an eyebrow at her long friend. "It won't fit."

Tat dismissed this with a wave of her hand. "I grew out of that ages ago. C'mon, Alanna, you have to start being a girl _sometime._"

"Since when?" she retorted as they pushed her into the dressing room. Slowly, Alanna stripped off the sweat stained fighting clothes she was wearing and changed, only looking at herself in the mirror once she was finished. And stared.

The gown was much more elaborate than the ones she usually wore - more to please Maude and the priestesses than anything else. The young, delicate looking lady in the mirror, with her pale skin and flaming pinned up hair was a far cry from the rough-and-tumble girl she was used to.

"Come on," came Tat's voice through the door, startling her out of her reverie, "we want to know what you look like."

Nervously, wondering how she had managed to let herself be talked into this, she came out.

The look on their faces was enough to make it worth it being dressed up, Alanna thought.

"Wow," murmured Rhiannon, "You're actually pretty when you're not covered in dirt and sweat."

Tat stood still however, her head cocked slightly to one side as she examined her friend. "There's something missing," she announced, and strode across the room to her chest of drawers, rummaging through one until she found what she was looking for. 

"Here," she said, holding up the little box, triumphantly, "earrings."

"_What?_" Alanna exclaimed, "No way!"

Tat advanced on her, and, grabbing her shoulders, pushed her towards a chair.

"Tat," Alanna began warningly, "don't' make me use Shang on you."

But Tat wasn't listening. She pushed Alanna down into the chair and gestured for Rhiannon to bring over  the needles and a candle she had asked her to get, just a they heard a knock at the door, and Sophia entered.

"Oh, hello," she said to Alanna, before turning to the others "Hello, Tat, Rhia, where's Alanna -" her voice trailed off as she turned back to stare at Alanna

"What, you didn't recognise me?" Alanna asked flippantly, and her eyes widened as Sophia, apparently lost for words, shook her head. That decided it. She might not want to be a lady, but she _was_ a girl and she intended to make sure that people knew it. "Do it," she said, waving a hand imperiously at Tat and Rhiannon. 

Sophia turned back to them. "Do what?' she asked, a puzzled frown on her face.

Rhiannon held up the needle as Tat announced, "We've decided she needs earrings."

Sophia crossed her arms. "I think you'd better let me do that," she said, crossing the room to take the needle and candle from Rhiannon.

As she sat next to Alanna, slowly rotating the needle in the flame, while Alanna watched nervously. _Get a hold on yourself, _she thought._ You've gotten far worse injuries than this. Why am I so nervous about a little prick?_

Sophia removed the needle from the flame, and took hold of Alanna's ear as Alanna closed her eyes.

She felt the needle go into her ear, and though she felt no pain, there was a roaring sound in her ears.

Sophia took hold of her other ear, and Alanna felt the needle go in again as the roaring grew louder.

"Alanna. Alanna" Alanna heard Sophia's voice in her throbbing ears at the same time a she became aware of the stink in her nose. 

She coughed, starting away from the tiny vial Sophia held under her nose. Sophia smiled in satisfaction, placing the small metal cap over it.

"What happened?" she asked. 

Tat's mouth was twitching. "You fainted."

"I _fainted?_"

Rhiannon, her face creased with worry, nodded, but Tat began to laugh, and in a few seconds she had collapsed into a chair, waving an arm wildly as she proclaimed,

"Alanna of Trebond, Shang apprentice, woman warrior, and powerful mage, fainted because of a- a-"

"Pinprick." Alanna finished, somewhat sourly.

"Don't worry," said Sophia in a reassuring tone as she held up a mirror for Alanna's inspection, "You're not the first."

Standing up carefully, Alanna winced as the bell that signified lights-out for the young ladies at the convent  rang in her still-tender ears, tripping on the hem of the over-long gown, and decided that she'd best change out of it before she tripped and broke something.

The others agreed, although they would only let her change after she'd promised to have a dress made of the same colour upon their next trip to the City of the Gods.

***

Thom turned away from the sand laden wind coming through the open window, and wondered yet again how Jon and Gary had managed to convince their respective fathers to let him come to Persopolis with them.

Walking over to the table that the small rooms he had been given contained, Thom saw two letters on it and picked them up, wondering why he hadn't seen them earlier, before realising that they must have been left there by a servant when he was out. 

Recognising the handwriting on the first, he scowled, for it was from his father, and letters from his father were never particually enjoyable experiances. The next was from Alanna, something which pleased Thom much more.

Deciding he may as well get the bad over with first, he took out the dagger he wore at his belt, and used it to  break the heavy read wax seal bearing the Trebond arms entwined with Lord Alan's initials - his father's insignia.

The letter contained the usual mentions of important goings-on at Trebond, his father's studies, a perfunctionary request after his health and general well-being ... and notice of a marriage his father was currently arranging for him.

Thom stopped dead, staring in disbelief at the paper he held, as the words his father had scribed there marched on regardless.

_... Baron Nathaniel and I have long discussed the advantages of such a match, and  decided to betrothe you, and his youngest daughter, a girl I believe is about a year younger than you are, by the name of Rhiannon. Naturally, the marriage will not take place until she has completed her years at the convent and you have undergone your Ordeal, but I felt you might wish to be informed of the match. This will strengthen Trebond's tie's with Ruatha's Gorge ..._

Rhiannon of Ruatha's Gorge. The name seemed somehow familiar, and Thom realised that she was one of his sister's friends at the convent.

He was fairly sure he had met her before ... Alanna had mentioned them playing together once or twice when they were children, but Thom could dredge up no more of a memory than a toddler's face, blurred by time, and surrounded by a mass of loose blond hair.

He reached for his sister's letter, wondering if she knew of it ... Mithros know how long ago his father had actually _signed_ the betrothal contract, and this Rhiannon might have told her of it if she had heard anything.

As far as he could tell, Alanna had heard nothing, since her letter was no different in tone as any others he had received from her, and he was sure it would have been if she _had_ heard something, but for once, his sister's essence did nothing to calm him.

***

"Something wrong, Thom?" Jon asked as they all relaxed in his rooms in a brief respite from the party that had been going on since dinner. True, social occasions weren't his young friend's best area, but Thom wasn't usually _this_ quiet.

Thom's reply was terse, and the scowl he had been wearing all evening deepened. "It seems that my father has seen fit to arrange a marriage for me - with one of my sisters best friends!"

Jon let out a long, low whistle.

"Well, you'll be glad to know that I have the perfect activity to take your mind of that, then."

Raoul sat up straighter. "Can I come? I've been bored witless since we got here, what with the parties and receptions and such."

Jon grinned, "Sure. What about you, Gary?"

Gary shrugged. "Sure. Sounds interesting."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Come on, then." he said, and, turning, headed towards the door.

"Hang on," Thom said, suddenly feeling uneasy about whatever it was that Jon had in mind. "Where're we going?"

Jon grinned. "That's part of the adventure."

Shrugging off the feeling of uneasiness, Thom, with Gary and Raoul, followed Jon down to the stables.

Mage nickered softly at Thom's approach, the golden flecks in his mane and eyes shimmering in the candlelight.

"Easy, boy." Thom whispered as he grabbed his tack, saddling Mage as quickly as he could, then led him out to where the others were already waiting in the small courtyard behind the stables.

Riding through the streets, Thom again felt a gut feeling of danger, but suppressed it.

Once in the desert, Jon kicked Darkness into a gallop, and the black horse had almost disappeared into the desert night before the others caught up. 

Thom sucked in a breath as he caught sight of their destination.

He turned to Jon, purple eyes huge in the darkness. "The _black city_, Jon? Are you insane?"

Jon dismounted. "Still up for that adventure?"

Gary shook his head. "No, Jon, we've done some risky stuff in the past but this..." he waved an arm at the expanse of black stone that loomed above them, "... this is just too much."

Jon shrugged. "If that's the way you feel then ... " and then, before any of them could reach him, he darted inside the city.

Gary muttered a curse, and looked at the others. Raoul dismounted, saying "We can't just let him go in there on his own."

They caught up with Jon at the edge of an enormous, glass-covered pit, staring up at the black temple on the other side.

"Should we go in?" whispered Raoul.

"We've come this far," said Jon, in a far away, almost dreamlike tone.

Thom said nothing, just stared up suspiciously at the temple. It seemed to hypnotise him, the weird black radiance it emanated.

He was on the verge of telling the others that they should go back, when he realised that they were all crossing the black pit ahead of him, and, stepping onto it to catch up, felt as if he was being pulled across it by a rope around his waist.

 He stepped inside.

"Well, here we are," he announced, rotating to view the enormous temple, and stopping when he caught side of a stone altar. For a second it seemed that another scene overlaid his vision...

_ ... Two men  -  priests? -  Held a struggling man over the altar, while a third lifted a wicked, jagged edged knife over him. The knife descended, piercing the man's chest, and the priest dragged it down as his victim screamed, then reached into the man's chest and pulled out his pulsing heart, holding it up like as an offering. Blood streamed in torrents down the altar ... _

Thom gasped, feeling nauseated at the vision, and, as if it had been a cue, swirling magic ... a sickly yellow green colour ... began to stream in the air in front of the altar, materialising into a row of impossibly tall, beautiful ... people?

One smiled, slauntering towards Raoul. "It has been long since we have had such handsome young men visit us."

Raoul stared at her, hypnotised.

Realising what was happening, Jon yelled. "Raoul!"

Raoul's head snapped up, and realising his peril, he dodged, pulling his sword out his sheath in a quick fluid movement.

Gary and Jon did the same, as did Thom, although he doubted his ability with a sword - dubious enough even in the practise courts - would be anything to use against these - _things_.

Grouping together, Gary muttered, "Those are the Bazhir demons we were told about, aren't they?"

Jon's face tightened grimly. "So it seems."

Thom counted. Seven demons, four humans  - _almost_, he thought to himself _two to one odds ... but against demons ... _

Abandoning any subtlety, the demons began to circle them, the four men amongst them now holding swords that they seemed to have simply plucked from the air.

One struck forward, towards Gary, who parried, was struck in the arm, and returned a blow.

Realising he had instinctively thrown up a magical shield to protect himself, Thom muttered a spell under his breath, enlarging it so that they were all surrounded by the shield. 

Seeing what he was doing, Jon threaded his own sapphire magic into the amethyst ball of light that surrounded them, warning the other's to stay inside of it.

Another demon struck, again aiming for Gary, whose wound, though it did not appear to be particularly serious, hampered his movement, and Raoul seized the chance to stab through the demon's unguarded side. The demon howled, disappearing without a trace, and one of the women screamed in apparent anguish, lunching herself at the shield - and straight at Thom!

Thom held up his sword, but fear made him lose control of it, and the woman grabbed it, neatly snapping it in half, before beginning to assault the shield around Thom, and four of the remaining five rushed at the others, knowing that the shield would protect them only as long as Thom - and Jonathon   - could hold it up.

 The demon-woman shrieked and grabbed hold of part of the shield as if it were made of cloth, and Thom sent it spinning up through her arm and to her heart, expanding until she blew apart at the force of Thom's enlarged gift pulsing up the arm still connected to his shield.

_Two down, five to go,_ thought Thom grimly.

Jon threw a ball of fire at one of the demons attacking him, and it screamed as the blue flames licked up it's body, a brief pillar of fire before it crumbled to an ash which then disappeared altogether.

_Four..._

Gary slashed at the demon-man that attacked him, and it jumped back, joining the one demon that had not yet fought.

The demon who had stood apart for all this time turned his head slightly, looking at Thom, and all of a sudden Thom felt a sharp twisting pain like a dagger being thrust into his brain. He fell to his knees with a cry, and sent a stab of pure magic towards the demon, missing it's target and hitting another of their assailants, who disappeared in a cloud of yellow smoke.

The last stepped back, joining the two who stood slightly away from the young men.

Then the demon that had stood silently while it's kindred died, smiled, showing long, white fangs, and reached out a hand with long, claw-like nails.

"The others were fools, but you are weak now."

He walked towards them, the other two trailing close behind, one on each side.

Standing between Raoul and Jon, Thom tried to swallow, his mouth dry, desperately running through all the spells he had ever learnt, for even if had had any skill with a sword, it was broken now.

"Mithros," Raoul whispered as an enormous two-handed black sword appeared in the demon's claws. 

_Mithros ..._of course! 

His mind flew back to when Jon had been dying of the Sweating Sickness, and Alanna chanting a spell beside him to summon the greater powers - the Goddess - and the variation used to call on Mithros that he had learnt long ago as a child at Trebond.

He closed his eyes, drawing all his magic back into himself, hardly realising that the shield he had been holding for so long was gone, or the way Jon's sapphire Gift shimmered into it's place.

Beside him, Jon saw the demon grin wickedly, and realised that he thought that Thom had used up all his magic. Jon was sure Thom had a greater Gift than that though, and hearing a low chant beside him, suddenly realised that Thom was reciting a complicated spell in a language Jon did not know yet could somehow understand.

Thom's brow furrowed in concentration, and he whispered the words that would release his Gift, sending it flowing towards the demons in a wave of destruction. Somehow  'seeing' the magic, he realised that the gaps in it would reduce it, and he grabbed onto Raoul both physically and magically, 'borrowing' his energy.

Beside him, Jon recognised at last Thom's spell, and threw his own magic into as well as the energy of Gary beside him, following Thom's example. 

The last thing any of them say before they collapsed was the Bazhir demon being blown away into impossible tiny pieces, like so many grains of sand upon the desert wind.


	10. Orphans

One of a Kind 

Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable from any part of any book written about Tortall belongs to me. If you  don't recognise it, it's mine, or a if it's a person who I know who I inserted into Tortall, they belong to themself. There. Short and Sweet. But slowly Getting Longer. I'll stop now. (really, I will.)

Chapter Ten : Orphans

"And, one and two, three and four, five, six, seven next partner." Alanna whirled, concentrating so intently on the intricate steps of the new dance that she didn't realise who her next partner was until they were face to face.

"Well, Lady Alanna, it seems we meet again." were Delia's words, as her hand closed around Alanna's, tightening painfully.

"We do indeed, Lady Delia." Alanna replied, returning the squeeze - much harder. Alanna wasn't the Shang Dragon's (unofficial) apprentice for nothing, and Delia was forced to bit back a yelp of pain. "Are you enjoying playing the role of a lord? It should give you quite the inside edge in your pursuit of your conquests."

Alanna spun away again from Delia, smirking at the expression on the older girl's face. It was a well-known fact at the convent that Delia hated that she was always given the man's part of a dance in their classes, because of her height and the speed at which she picked up the steps of the dance.

Alanna, on the other hand, was always given the lady's part - a good thing, she admitted wryly to herself, since she needed all the practise she could get to master the dances. Not so much because of the intricacy - the weapon's and unarmed martial dances Liam taught her were far more complicated, and always more physically demanding than the steps and dances she learnt in her lessons at the convent - but because she found the slow formality of them so boring, it was hard to pay attention long enough to learn them.

"Nice," Tat commented as they changed partners again. Like Delia, Tat's height ensured that she was dancing the part of a lord, but unlike Delia, Tat didn't care. "We'll make a diplomat of you yet, if someone can figure out a way to get you to use that clever tongue of yours to murmur pleasantries rather than insults."

"Polite lies, you mean. Meant to stoke the already over-inflated ego of whatever pompous dignitary you happen to be speaking to."

"It happens everywhere in life, 'Lana, not just at court. You may as well get used to it." Alanna's only reply to Tat's last comment was a snort, and the older girl sighed inwardly at her young friend's naivety and idealism. Alanna could understand rudeness and violence, but the girl couldn't - or wouldn't - comprehend dishonesty. It just seemed to go against her grain.

The bell rang, and Alanna sighed in relief that this would be the last dance lesson she would have to undergo for the next week. The week of midwinter was set aside for festivities and religious ceremonies, which meant no classes in anything. She would still be training with Liam though. Nothing came in the way of that.

Walking down the hall to the dining rooms with Tat and Rhia, her thoughts turned to Thom, and the betrothal between him and her friend. Rhiannon had told her first, having had the information in a letter from her mother, Baroness Amanda. Soon after that, she had had a letter from Thom, also informing her of the betrothal, which raged on about their father's inconsiderate high-handedness, before Thom's inevitable curiosity (one of the several character traits he shared with Alanna,) got the better of him and he asked her about Rhiannon.

Alanna had obliged, sending back a letter full of information about what her friend was like, and most importantly to Alanna's mind, what Rhiannon (not to mention Alanna) thought of the betrothal.

The letter had also contained some rather scathing questions about what exactly he had done to cause her to experience the nightmares concerning him that had started bare days before his letter had arrived.

Only they hadn't been simple nightmares, Alanna knew, because they had also involved a young man she recognised as Prince Jonathon, from when she had cured him of the Sweating Sickness, although he was several years older now, and two others who Alanna had had described in enough detail by Thom to recognise as Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's peak, and Gareth of Naxen, all fighting incredibly tall, impossibly strange people in a back temple. Alanna had been terrified about her twin, but realised that if the event had happened in the past, than Thom must be alright, since he had sent her the letter.

Thom had sent back an somewhat embarrassed-sounding letter about how they had gone to the black city of the Bahzir, and explained that since he had been having the same nightmares, they must have been coming to her through the magical link between them, and Alanna wrote back that _he_ was supposed to be the sensible one, and what on earth had been thinking. 

She had been about to send another one after it, when Tat had pointed out that it was rather ridiculous having an argument by letter, and that if she felt so strongly about it, then why not simply contact him through the fire to make her point?

Of course, at that point Alanna decided to drop the subject, and had henceforth did not mention it.

Thom would be undergoing his exams to become a squire now, Alanna thought somewhat wistfully. She was happy as Liam's apprentice, but she had yet to win the approval of the Shang council to undergo the Shang Ordeal when Liam deemed her ready, something she often worried about. Of course, they had not rejected her, but what would happen when the next council was called and Liam brought her before them was uncertain.

***

"Thom of Trebond." Thom closed his eyes and let out a little sigh of relief, before getting up to join Geoffrey and Douglass, and the others, at the squires' table. He had been secretly afraid he would fail the tests, since while his class work was excellent, his physical abilities in the practise courts still left much to be desired.

He wouldn't officially be someone's squire until after Midwinter, when all of the current fourth-year squires had undergone their Ordeal's and were - most of them - knights.

He glanced over to Jon, who would be undergoing a period of contemplation that night, before undergoing his Ordeal the next morning. He was pale and this would be the last time Thom would see him until he came out of the chamber of the Ordeal the next morning, since he would be sleeping - or trying to - for the rest of the day, to help him keep awake that night.

As they all got up to leave the hall, Thom made his way through the crowd to Jon, and the others.

Reaching up to grab his taller friend by the shoulder, Thom looked him full in the face. "Hey." he said. "Good luck."

Jon smiled wanly. "Thanks, Thom."

***

Thom stood nervously next to his friends, waiting. The last few minutes of the hour a knight-to-be spent in the chamber seemed to stretch on endlessly as they waited, with most of court, for the priests to pull back the bolts on the iron doors and let Jon out.

Watching them, Thom saw one nod to the other, and, like mirror images, they moved forward and unbolted the doors, and Jon stumbled out of the inky blackness behind them, as they rushed forward to help him. Thom had never seen someone fresh from the chamber before, and was shocked. Jon looked as if had died in there, and the staring blankness of his brilliant eyes terrified him.

Then his eyes re-focused, and the emptiness in them decreased somewhat as he saw them all.

"I made it." he whispered hoarsely, and allowed them to help him up to his new rooms.

Later, as the crowd cheered, Thom frowned, looking for his father. Lord Alan generally shunned court life, but Thom thought he would have come for the knighting of the Heir, at least. Shrugging, he turned his attention back to Jon, who was grinning as his father, beaming with pride, fastened a shield adorned with the Conte lion to Jon's left arm. If his father chose not to come, Thom wasn't going to complain - it wasn't as if her got on with his father in any case.

***

Nervously smoothing his scarlet tunic, Thom stood in front of the throne in the war chamber. This was traditionally where squires were chosen by their knight-master's from among the knights of Tortall who chose to attend.

"Geoffrey of Meron."

Geoffrey stepped forward, and King Roald made the traditional request for one his knights to step forward and proclaim their willingness to be his knight-master. Raoul stood up, and announced that he was willing, and Geoffrey went to stand by him, Raoul handing him a pin with his personal emblem on it as he did.

The herald read out Douglass's name, and there was a stir amongst the knights sitting there as Jonathon stood up - _this_ was who the prince intended to be his squire. Jon recited the traditional oath, and Douglass walked up to stand slightly behind his chair.

"Thom of Trebond."

Sir Myles stood up, and Thom permitted himself a small sigh of relief - a desk knight like Sir Myles wouldn't expect him to fight that well, and he would actually be useful to Sir Myles. Reaching his new knight-master, Thom took his badge from Sir Myles, and attached the blue-and-white enamelled pin to his tunic.

***

The servant bowed, and approached Sir Myles. He whispered something to the older man, whose expression became grave, bowed again, and left.

Sir Myles cleared his throat. "Squire Thom, the Duke requires you to report to his office immediately."

Thom gathered his books, and, getting up, wondered what could be so urgent that the Duke would pull him out of class rather than wait until the evening.

Knocking on the door to the Duke's study, he entered.

Sir Gareth the elder of Naxen glanced up. "Ah, Thom. Do sit down."

Thom sat.

"I have received a letter from Trebond just now, Thom. It's contents - well," he handed Thom a piece of parchment headed with the Trebond emblem. "I deeply regret that I must be the one to inform you that your father is dead."

Thom froze. "Dead?"

The Duke nodded. "Preparations are being untaken for his funeral, I understand. It is requested that you leave immediately for Trebond for the - ceremonies."

Thom nodded, his throat tight. Standing, he collected his books, bowed to duke, and left, walking faster than usual to his rooms adjoining Myles'.

Coram looked up as he shut the door behind him.

"Lad, I was told to come here. What's wrong?"

Wordlessly, Thom handed him the letter, then went to his dressing room, pulling out his saddlebags to begin packing. Coram came in, saying nothing but gave Thom's shoulder a reassuring squeeze with his firm grip, and helped him pack.

***

"A priest from the City of the Gods is making his way here as we speak, who will travel with you to perform the necessary ceremonies at you father's funeral. I am sorry for your loss, Alanna."

Alanna looked down at her hands, fighting unexpected tears for her father. 

"Go now, the carriage will be here shortly."

Alanna nodded, and the First Daughter thought it was a sign more telling than words of how shocked Alanna was that she didn't protest at the thought of riding to Trebond in a carriage.

"Alanna." Tat ran up, while Rhiannon followed a slightly slower pace. 

"What's wrong? When the First Daughter summoned you, and then we heard the carriage - "

"My father's dead."

Tat's eyes widened and she hugged Alanna sympathetically, thankfully saying nothing. Behind her, Maude climbed into the carriage, and Rhiannon hugged her too, quickly, before the driver handed her up into the carriage.

Liam, who was coming to Trebond with them, climbed into the saddle of his horse, tying Luna's lead rope onto Flame's (his horse) pommel.

Alanna leaned back into the seat, and the carriage rolled away.

***

" My lord. Lord Thom." startled, Thom glanced up at the servant, not yet used to being the lord of Trebond. "My lord," the man said again. "The steward wishes you to know that your sister will be arriving shortly."

Thom practically leapt out of his seat, bolting down the stairs in his excitement as he realised that this would be the first time he had seen his sister in four years.

A carriage rolled to a stop in the courtyard just as he arrived, panting hard.

The driver - a man in the livery of a servant of the priests of the black god - jumped down from his seat, and opened the door, as a man dressed in a long, black robe with a cowled hood stepped out, his eyes travelling over the crowd assembled until they came to a rest on Thom.

Maude exited the carriage next, slightly plumper but otherwise unchanged from when Thom had last seen her as a ten year old leaving Trebond for Corus.

The driver reached his hand out to hand down the young lady who stepped out last.

Wearing a black velvet dress, and a black veil that hid her face and hair, Thom didn't recognise her at first.

Scanning the courtyard as the priest had done earlier, the image of the demure noble lady disappeared the moment she laid eyes upon him, flying across the courtyard to engulf him in a hug.

Thom returned the hug, then flipped up the veil. "That you, Alanna?" he teased.

She stepped back. "Who else?"

He shrugged. "I didn't recognise you in the whole lady get-up." he said flippantly, and then brief joyful mood disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Glancing up, Thom saw a tall, green eyed man with hair the same shade as his own behind them.

Alanna looked up to, and introduced them. "Thom, this is my Shang master, Liam. Liam, this is my brother, Thom." Liam bowed, murmuring consolation for his father's death.

***

The day after the funeral, Alanna, who had been stuck in the castle for the last three days, helping her brother, and Coram and Maude, who would be staying behind to manage things when they left, decided she wanted to go riding, and announced this to Thom, who, surprisingly, said he would like to come. About to leave her room, clad in grey hose and a muted green tunic over a shirt of the same grey, she paused, and, impulsively, picked up her quiver and bow, which were beside the door.

Thom was waiting in the courtyard when she arrived, with Mage and Luna, and raised an eyebrow at her weapons, but said nothing.

Alanna mounted Luna, who's coat had faded from it's original silver and gold, and was now a pure, dazzling white with faint silver streaks in her coat, and threads of gold in her mane and tail.

"Let's go," she said, and they rode out along the lowered drawbridge, then out into the forest surrounding Trebond village.

They had been riding for quite a long time when Alanna abruptly halted Luna. She glanced across at her twin. "Did you hear that?" she whispered. "Hear what?" he replied. Alanna said nothing, up simply sat, very quietly and still, with her head cocked slightly to one side. She frowned. "I definitely heard something that time. I'm going for a closer look."

Standing up in her stirrups, she reached for a low branch, blessing her small size as she scrambled lightly through the interlocking branches of the trees in this part of the forest. She glanced down at the place where she had heard the noise coming from, and caught her breath.

Men - eight of them stood or sat directly below her, bandit's by the look of them.

Making her way quietly back to Thom and the horses, she whispered this news to him, then suggested that they leave, something Thom fervently agreed with.

Manuvering Luna so that Mage could walk beside them, Alanna froze as she heard a branch crack loudly - right under Mage's hoof!

From the shouting suddenly coming from clearing where that bandits were, she wasn't the only one who had heard, either. 

"Go!" she shouted at Thom, too late.

The men ran towards them, one aiming a bow at them. The arrow, flying through the air towards Alanna, dissolved in flame as Thom directed his gift at it, and all hell broke loose as they ran towards the twins, one grabbing at Alanna's boot. 

Luna, well trained warhorse that she was, reared and Alanna kicked backwards with all her might at her assailant, hitting him squarely in the mouth.

Thom slashed at an opponent, and Alanna wasn't sure whether or not his wounding the man was a matter of pure luck or of Thom finally gaining some skill with a sword.

"Matti! Go back and warn th' others!" yelled one. 

Others? There were more of them?

Socking a second oppenent with enough force to knock him unconcious, Alanna pulled her bow off the clip that attached it to her quiver, and set an arrow to it as Luna reared again. Busy blasting two more bandits away from him with his gift, Thom didn't see the man come up behind him, lifting a wickedly sharp looking knife to stab him in the back.

"Thom!" Alanna shrieked, letting fly with her arrow. It flew straight, burying itself deep in the man's chest, and Alanna stared as he toppled backwards, suddenly realising that she had just killed a man.

"Alanna! Alanna, come on! We have to go!"

Suddenly aware of the danger of their position, Alanna kicked Luna into a gallop, following Mage, with her brother bent low over his neck.

Still galloping up the drawbridge to the castle, Thom gasped orders to the guards, who, alarmed, sent out scouts, pulling up the drawbridge after them.

Alanna slid out of the saddle, feeling sick, and fled.

It was Liam who found her, sitting up in the battlements with her arms curled around her knees, her face tear-stained.

She looked up as the echo of his boots on the stone faded away as he crouched down in front of her, tilting her face up to look at him.

"I killed a man, Liam."

He nodded. "I see. Kitten - think on this. You may have killed someone today, but he meant to kill you and your brother, two children outnumbered two to eight. You have done yourself no dishonour to kill a man with that kind of mind in defense of yourself and of another."

He smiled slightly, and tapped her cheek lightly. 

"Don't feel too guilty, although it is right that you grieve. It is when you stop feeling anything about the lives you take that you should worry."

He stood up, and Alanna stared after him as he walked slowly away, his words penetrating the wave of guilt and gried that she had been feeling, and she got up, and walked slowly down to the courtyard behind him. 

When they were both standing in the courtyard, he turned around, and smiled encouragingly at her. "Good lass." he murmered.


	11. Dragon's Apprentice

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: _blinks._ Haven't you got it by now - Tortall and all of it's characters with the exception of the ones I invented are the property of Tamora Pierce. _goes off muttering about the slow-wittedness of people who require a disclaimer for each chapter._

Chapter eleven: Dragon's Apprentice

Liam stopped Flame gently outside of an inn, glancing over to Alanna. "We'll stop here for tonight." Alanna nodded, glancing unhappily at the rain dripping off the roof, and pulled her cloak tighter. _At least it'll be warm. And dry, hopefully._

Handing Luna's reins over to a waiting stable boy, Alanna hurriedly grabbed the saddlebags containing her dry clothes, and followed Liam into the inn.

Seeing them, a man whose hurried air proclaimed him to be the inn's manager hurried over, bowing as he came near.

"May I help you?"

Liam answered for them. "We shall be requiring separate rooms for the night for myself and my sister."

Alanna smiled a little at the lie, despite her discomfort. Given that they shared some characteristics, she often posed as the Dragon's younger sister when he didn't want them to be known.

The innkeeper led Liam off to arrange the various paperwork and such, and, curious, Alanna dropped her bags by the door and wandered over to the large fireplace in the common room surrounded by a cluster of people.

Warm for the first time that day, and lulled by the low hum of conversation around her, Alanna began to fall asleep.

"Kitten." Alanna awoke with a start at the combination of Liam's voice, his hand on her shoulder, and his dropping her bags into her lap. "The maid will show you to your room - you can fall asleep there." Stifling a moan, Alanna stood up, throwing her bags over her shoulder, and followed the girl up the stairs.

Once inside her room, Alanna once again dumped her bags, and sank with a sigh onto her bed. 

"Miss?"

Alanna looked up with a start, realising the maid was still there. "Will you be requirin' anythin', miss?"

Alanna smiled wanly. "A bath would be wonderful, if it's not to much trouble."

The girl bobbed a curtsy, saying that she would be back shortly with water, and left. _And don't I need it,_ Alanna thought. _I haven't been this cold, wet and dirty since - well - ever!_

Climbing into the bath that the maid - Kaylee - had filled for her, she sank back with a sigh of relief.

She had been excited - and nervous - when Liam had told her that a Shang council had been convened and that he would be taking her with him to it, but three days of riding in constant rain and sleeping either in caves or under a tree had taken her mind off it.

Now thoughts of the council returned, though.

Liam had assured her that the fact she was a noble would make no difference to the council - many Shang had been nobles in the past, and had only stopped being noble because their families had cast them off.

But Alanna wasn't so sure. None of the noble Shang had ever been women - would they think her too weak to be a Shang because of her sex? Surely not - but that didn't stop her worrying.

Sighing, she climbed out the bath and changed into breeches and a shirt - both shades of grey, since she was officially still in mourning for her father.

Maude had stayed behind in Trebond when she and Thom had left again, as the castle's head healer, while Coram had stayed behind as Trebond's steward, and Alanna had taken on Maude's granddaughter, a girl of her age named Shannyn, as her new maid.

It had taken them a few weeks to get used to each other - Shannyn because she was expecting a typical noble lady, and Alanna because she was expecting a younger Maude, fussy and motherish, but once they had, they got on excellently - even better once Shannyn remembered that they'd played together as toddlers in Maude's cottage, and sparked off a night mostly spent recalling pranks.

Down in the common room, Alanna looked around for Liam and caught sight of him near the bar talking animatedly to a pretty young woman. Alanna ordered food and went to sit on her own with a smile. If her 'older brother' wanted to do some short-term courting, she wasn't going to interrupt him.

She studied the people around her with interest, refreshed enough by bath and food to be curious, noting the characteristics of each.

A group of Bazhir traders sat in the corner, and Alanna hastily averted her eyes when she realised that they were staring at her in obvious disapproval - from what she had heard, the Bazhir expected women to be modest, both in dress and attitude.

Since some other members of the Shang order, as well as Liam, were in Tortall, it had been decided to hold the council in Port Caynn, although Alanna had hoped it might be held elsewhere - she wanted to travel, and this would have been a good opportunity.

Having seen, to all appearances, everything there was to see there, she got up and retired gratefully to bed, knowing she would need her energy ... Liam insisted on a bout every morning while they were travelling after their exercises.

***

Three days later, Alanna and Liam rode through the gates of Port Caynn, the guards having given them little more than a perfunctionary glance before letting them through. Alanna had heard enough of their conversation to know that their opinion was that with complete Shang order meeting there, few people would choose to stir up trouble, knowing Shang abilities and the unspoken code of honour they lived by.

The rain that had followed them almost since they left the convent had finally stopped earlier that morning, and Alanna took advantage of the respite to push back the heavy hood of her cloak, and shift it back on her shoulders so that the breeze could cool her off.

Luna shook her pale mane, a sure sign that she wanted to run, and Alanna sympathised. What with either sticky mud to contend with or slick cobblestones, they hadn't had a proper ride in far too long.

They turned a corner, and, coming up to the gates a townhouse, Liam dismounted, and proceeded to open them, before leading Flame in.

Looking over at Alanna, who sat uneasily in Luna's saddle, he gestured for her to come in. 

"We'll be staying here while we're in Port Caynn - the man who owns this place is an old friend of mine."

Dismounting, Alanna led Luna through the courtyard to the double doors of the stable, to an empty stall. Seeing that the stable boy was busy with Flame, Alanna shrugged and retrieved a curry brush from her saddle bags to brush the mud from Luna's pale coat, and replace her bridle with a simple cloth halter.

Busy with a particularly stubborn clump of mud near a hoof, Alanna at first didn't notice Liam standing out side the stall. When she did, she stood up hurriedly, suddenly conscious of the young man beside him, and of the mud stains on her clothes.

Liam raised an eyebrow, but kept his expression serious as he introduced her as his apprentice to his friend.

His friend, Tobias, held out a hand, and Alanna quickly wiped hers on her breeches before shaking his, then started as he turned it over and lightly kissed her fingers.

He grinned, transforming a rather plain and serious face, at her expression, explaining as he led them both into the house that Alanna had looked so much like a noble that he'd assumed she was, an assumption Alanna verified.

Having washed and changed, she hunted out Liam, who told her that he must go and see the council, but that she wouldn't be required to come to this particular meeting, and could do whatever she wished for the afternoon. Studying the city curiously from out a window, Alanna decided what she wished to do was go exploring, having heard of Port Caynn's reputation from a number of people. She didn't doubt this would be rather different to the City of the Gods - there was trade there, of course, for the priests and priestesses had servants, and, as Sophia had told her, where there are people, there will be trade, for people require food and sleep and company, and that comes with trade, but a sacred city would always be slightly restrained, and Port Caynn existed for trade.

***

Several hours later, having explored enough to satisfy her appetite for anything even remotely resembling an adventure - for that day at least, she glanced up at a faint glimmer of sunlight, hoping it meant that the next day would be warm, and almost got herself bowled over by a tall boy a few years older than herself.

"Get out of my way, wench."

Alanna glared at the boy, the effect in no way diminished by the fact she had to look up to do it.

"The street's wide enough - walk around. It'll only take you out of your way two steps." 

His face tightened. "I said, get out of my way!"

"Get out of mine!" Alanna snapped. By the Goddess, who did he think he was, ordering her around in such a way? He was spoiling for a fight, and Alanna had no hesitations at all about supplying an opponent for him if it came to that.

Making to stalk past him, the boy grabbed Alanna's shoulder, pulling her roughly around, and raised his fist.

"Well? If you're going to try and hit me, don't take all day about it - I don't have time to waste on horse-dung like you."

He drew his hand back, then, slowly, as if it pained to do so. "Rest assured, if you weren't a girl, I'd have no qualms at all about it, wench."

Alanna bit back a retort - now wasn't the time to show that her sex didn't stop her from being able to fight - that could wait until she could officially inform anyone and everyone that she was the Shang Dragon's apprentice, tossed her head, and stalked away proudly, a gesture learnt at the convent.

Scowling as she walked in the gate - the would-be encounter had spoilt her day, she headed for the stables, and settled down in a corner of Luna's stall, proffering an apple from her pocket as she quietly stroked her horse, thinking about the day's events, and impatiently wishing for the next day, when she would meet the Shang council, hopefully.

***

"Alanna. Alanna."

Alanna opened her eyes, squinting up through the bright morning sunlight shining onto her face at Liam.

"What are you doing in the stables?"

"Up until a minute ago, I was sleeping." Alanna replied grumpily as she pulled herself up, groaning as she discovered she was stiff in places that she hadn't even know it was possible to be stiff in.

Liam raised an eyebrow as she pulled golden flecks of straw out of hair. "And why, might I ask, were you sleeping in your horse's stall when you had a perfectly good bed to sleep in?"

Alanna glared at him. "I came out to visit my horse and fell asleep, if you must know. Why are you interrogating me?"

Liam shrugged ambiguously. "You're grumpier than usual this morning. Come on, or you'll miss the chance to warm up ... and since you're to see the council today, you'd best be limber."

_The council_. Alanna suddenly felt wide awake at the sound of those words, jumping up and hurrying ahead of  Liam out of the stables.

Walking at a rather more leisurely pace, Liam followed her, laughing as she reached the courtyard where Tobias had told her weapons training was held in the warmer months, spun around to face him, then stopped for a moment to compose herself, before beginning her stretches and exercises.

Wiping sweat away from her forehead an hour and a half later - the warm clothes she was wearing and the bright spring sunlight had combined unpleasantly with her vigorous exercises, she tossed the pole she was carrying back into the barrel which held it under a small veranda, and headed up to her rooms to bathe and change, quelling her excitement with some difficulty.

***

Liam glanced over at Alanna, his eyes a concerned muted green. "Ready?"

She glanced back, managing a wan, unconvincing smile. "As I'll ever be." 

He nodded.  "Good. Come on, then." He said, and, taking her gently by the elbow, pulled her inside the huge pavilion where the entire Shang body met, dropping her arm as soon as they were inside the tent flap. 

He walked forward, into the centre of the horseshoe formed by the seated Shang, and bowed. "My friends, may I introduce my apprentice, Alanna."

An unpleasant looking man seated at a slightly raised platform at the front stood up. "you _unapproved_ apprentice, Dragon. As I understand it, the main order of business this morning is to decide whether she is fit to join our ranks. As to her being approved or not, I do not see why it is being insisted on. I have never heard of it being a routine practice to approve new apprentices. I certainly was never brought before the council to be approved."

Liam crossed the floor to a vacant seat in the centre of the platform. "I have no doubts about Alanna's fitness, Griffin." He said in a calm, controlled voice as he sat down.

Alanna frowned slightly. _They're addressing each other by their Shang titles. So - that must be the Griffin, so I'm betting that the ones all sitting on that platform are the Shang with immortals names. _

The Griffin remained standing. "This is no ordinary apprentice, Dragon. As I understand it, you took  her as an apprentice at the rather old age of eleven - four years older than is the custom. Not only that, she is a noble, and a female one at that!"

A young woman seated close to the Griffin stood up, her icy blue eyes flashing. "Are you implying, Griffin, that you believe the child should not become a Shang because of her _sex_?" Her voice was terse, laced with the fury showing in her eyes - an ice cold fury to the Griffin's hot temper.

He sat, but slowly, and when he spoke this time, his voice was calmer. "Not at all, Unicorn. You yourself have proven time and time again that whether a person be a man or a woman, that is no measure of their ability to fight - at least in your case. But noble girls are raised as soft and pampered creatures, not fit for anything other than being a pretty ornament for their husband and family."

_Pretty ornament!_ Alanna could barely restrain herself from shouting at the man that she was anything but that, but the Unicorn spoke again in her defence. 

"Have you seen the girl fight?" she asked.

"I have not."

"Then how can you be so sure that is unable to - do you really think that the Dragon, who is proven to be the most able of us all, would be so amiss in is judgment of a potential student? Or that, even if her _had_ overestimated the girls ability, he would not only keep her on as an apprentice, but fail to teach her _anything_?"

The man said nothing, and, suddenly, Alanna felt very sure that at least part of his apparent hatred of her stemmed from something to do with Liam.

"Then," she said striding out to the front of the platform to address the entire Shang council, rather than just the Griffin, "it appears that the only way to judge this girl's worthiness is a duel of some sort. Who -" and now she turned back to the Griffin, " do you suggest should be her opponent?"

He looked back at her calmly over his steepled fingers, elbows resting on the arms of his chair.

"_My_ apprentice - he is about her age, after all, so that will also give us a chance to judge just _how _ behind the people who should have been her year mates, had she become an apprentice at the appropriate age, she is."

His glance flickered the Liam, who had been sitting quietly as he watched the battle of wills between the Unicorn and Griffin, and Alanna thought she triumph flit briefly over the Griffin's face as he did so. The Dragon, however, the look impassively, and the Griffin scowled and dropped his gaze.

"So be it." The Dragon murmured quietly as the Griffin stood and exited, letting the tent flap drop dramatically behind him.

***

The murmurs that ran through the assembled Shang masters like a breeze through a forest told Alanna when the Griffin had returned. 

When the Griffin had left, Liam had gestured for her to come to him, and now she stood next to the platform, close to his chair.

She looked up. The boy behind him had a golden brown tan and blond hair that was probably that colour from the sun, and very well muscled. _Taller than me - but then who isn't. Must be strong - he's got the stature of some fully grown warriors, and he's only fourteen. Wonder if he's like his master - he'll probably fight dirty if he is. Doesn't look it, though._

As Alanna walked into the centre of the huge space between the seated Shang, she heard the Unicorn's voice ring out. 

"Since it seems to be primarily you who would oppose the addition of this girl to our ranks, Griffin, I feel it is only fair you should be given the choice of what weapons these two shall fight with. Who here would protest?"

No-one responded, and the Griffin frowned for a moment. "Two contests." He said at last. "One with swords, the other unarmed."

The Unicorn nodded and snapped her fingers, and a moment later, two servants appeared carrying several long swords. She gestured towards them, her eyes on the two children in front of her. "Choose your weapons."

Alanna walked forwards to where the swords had been placed on the platform, reached for one, paused, and picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, and the weight felt uneven in her hand. The Unicorn watched impassively. Alanna reached for another. It, too, felt uncomfortable, and Alanna laid it aside. Beside her, the Griffin's apprentice picked up a sword, stepped back, swung it experimentally, and stabbed it down in the dirt, one hand on the pommel stone - a white crystal which had been placed in the hilt still in it's natural shape of a hexagon, but with a dragon twined 'round it.

Alanna picked up a third.

This sword felt different to the others immediately. It was very light, but not so light it would be difficult to control, and the hilt fit perfectly against her palm. Out of the end sprung the pommel stoned in the shape of a bird with it's wing's outstretched, it's tiny emerald eyes glittering, as did the tiny rubies and emeralds set under it's wings - a phoenix.

Alanna glanced up. The sword was perfect - surely they didn't mean to let an unproven apprentice fight with something like _this. _But the Unicorn only nodded and gave theslightest of encouraging smiles.

Turning, she walked out to the centre of the ring, turned again to face the boy, and together they bowed.

The Unicorn spoke. "Begin." 

Alanna struck. _Sometimes the best form of defence is attack_. The boy parried and they and Alanna moved back slightly to get a measure of his technique. He struck, and Alanna spun, aiming a high kick at his shoulder. He backed of slightly, and they circled again, before beginning to fight in earnest. If she had seen them, Alanna would've noted the looks of interest and startlement that appeared on the faces of the watching Shang, that two so young should be able to fight as these two did, and that a girl with as little training as Alanna had received could fight as she did.

They were as evenly matched as Alanna had ever been in a fight. He had the advantage of height and strength, but Alanna was very fast and agile, and Liam always made her use those two advantages to her advantage in duels.

When they had been fighting for some time, Alanna began to sweat in earnest, and felt the hilt of her sword growing slippery in her hand. She tightened her grip, and gritting her teeth, flew at the boy with all her speed and skill, attacking so quickly that the boy barely had time to block. There, an opening! Alanna thrust her sword towards the boy, letting it stop just short of his unguarded throat.

Warm hazel eyes flecked with gold looked into her own calmly, showing a respect that had not been there before. "I yield." _Eagle's eyes, _thought Alanna as she reversed her sword, stabbing it into the earth by her feet. _Doesn't miss much, this one. Doesn't act without thinking, either._

Pulling the sword out of the ground, Alanna walked back to the platform with the boy, to where the the servants had placed towels and dinking water.

Reaching out for water, Alanna poured herself a cup, hesitated, then poured another for the boy, who accepted it politely as they readied themselves for the next fight. "You fought well." Alanna said, looking at him over the rim of her cup. 

He smiled, showing very white teeth that contrasted sharply with his tan. "You were better - I'm Jacob, by the way," he said, extending a hand. "But most people call me Jake. And I take it you're Alanna. Word gets around fast here." he added, seeing Alanna's look of startlement that he knew her name. He grinned again. "Most of the time here, we apprentices have nothing better to do than either duel in the practise rings or sit 'round and gossip."

Alanna raised an eyebrow. she couldn't imagine the handsome lad sitting around gossiping with anyone.

The Unicorn walked over. "Are you ready?"

When they both nodded, she sent them back to the ring, and with a word, the second contest began.

Again, it seemed that they were evenly matched, and it for a long time one-one seemed to have the upper hand. Then, for a brief second when their arms were locked together,  Jake raise an eyebrow in an unspoken challenge and  as soon as they broke apart, Jake attacked and Alanna back flipped quickly, bring up her hand in a defensive position. Jake attacked again, and Alanna spun around, but too slowly, and suddenly she realised that she was lying on the ground, Jake standing over her. She made a face at him, reaching up to hold her head, ringing from the force of his blow, and then sighed. "I yield." 

Jake grinned and held out a hand to help her up. "Guess that means we're even."

"I suppose so." was her reply as they again walked forward to stand before the council.

The Unicorn stood up.  "The girl has undergone a trial of arms. Although the score is even, I believe that their is more to this than simply tallying points. Let the children leave now that we may discuss the matter in peace.

Jake tugged at her arm. "That's our cue to go. C'mon, I'll show you around."

***

"Since right now there are three immortal Shang, and one - the Griffin - was challenging a claim made by the other - the Dragon, Shang law dictates that neither of them could be the overseer of the trial - our fight - so it falls to the next immortal to do so, which is why the Unicorn was in charge. If the dispute was between two other Shang, the Dragon would oversee it."

Jake drew a deep breath and bit into the bread roll he was holding, while Alanna pondered everything he'd just told her. Though she knew everything she should've known at that age about Shang fighting, armed and unarmed, and the healing herbs Liam had taught her about in addition to the ones she had already learnt in her lessons at the convent and with Maude. But Shang customs were another matter entirely, and Alanna was fascinated by the various protocol and less important laws that she was learning from Jake - Liam had, or course, taught her the most important rules by which a Shang governed his or her life long ago.

Pulling her over to a group of apprentices clustered round sitting on barrels, fence, or ground, Jake shoved her lightly towards a pile of barrels, and scrambled up after her, and soon enough they - or at least Jake, were chatting animatedly to various members of the group, although Alanna felt uncharacteristically quiet and felt content to listen, for now.

So she noticed, before the rest, the boy running towards them, his face excited even from a distance. Everyone else noticed though, when he came to a sudden halt right outside the cluster and, gesturing behind him as he panted through an excited grin - "The Unicorn and the Griffin - are fighting - in the courts."

At his words, everyone, including Alanna, sprang up and bolted for the courts.  _ A duel between two of the best Shang - this should be interesting!_

It was. Alanna could hear the ringing of sword against sword long before the reached the arena. and when Jake pulled her out of the crowd, where she was in very real danger of being trampled underfoot, and up onto the roof of an old shed - one of the few permanent structures in the section of fields where the Shang had set up tents, pavilions, and rope practice courts for the meeting - Alanna could barely see their movements, the two Shang were so fast. But she did see the Griffin spot them, and then, a moment later, heard the Unicorn's cry ring out in the dead silence.

Two Shang ran in, and gently gathered up the Unicorn, bringing her out of the arena to lay her on the ground outside, where the crowd was being cleared away by none other than Liam. That done, he turned to kneel by the Unicorn, and a moment later, when Alanna heard him call for a healer - and _quickly_ - she knew that something was seriously wrong.

"Come on," she whispered urgently to Jake, swinging herself over the edge of the roof and hanging there for a moment before she dropped on her toes to the ground. Not waiting to see if he was behind her, Alanna ran for the crowd, elbowing people aside and ducking under arms to get to Liam and the Unicorn.

When she reached the front of the crowd, she stopped in horror at the sight of the Unicorn. Her beautiful face had a deep, bleeding welt on one side, and her chestnut brown hair was already matted with her blood. If whoever it was that had gone for a healer had to go as far as the village, they would never make it back in time to save the Unicorn. Alanna bit her lip. _I don't use my magic - but she stood up for me, and I can't just let her die ..._

Having made up her mind, Alanna knelt, and for the first time in three years, reached for her Gift. She hadn't used it since that fateful night when she and Thom had saved Prince Jonathan's life, and hoped that the lack of use would make it disappear, but it was still there, strong as ever, and she would use it now.  She could hear Liam speaking softly to the Unicorn on her other side "Kylaia," - her name, Alanna realised.

Shaking her head to clear it, she placed one hand on the Unicorns wound, closed her eyes, and heard a gasp that sounded as if every Shang there had drawn in breath as the Unicorn's face, and her own hand, began to shimmer with the violet light of her own healing magic.

The wound was very up n her hair where it was difficult to see - shallow but open to the bone, and her blood was running away fast. There was also concussion - but Alanna would have time enough to do that once she had stopped the bleeding and knit together the wound, at the same time transferring as much of her own health and energy as she dared to the Unicorn, whose own ebbed dangerously low.

Done at last, she opened her eyes, exhausted, to find everyone staring at her, and, removing her hand from the Unicorn's now fresh healed wound, wiped her bloodied hand on her breeches and rubbed at her roaring ears.

Standing up, she swayed wildly, and Liam reached out an arm to grab her, propelling her out of  the crowd and to where there horses had been tethered. If she hadn't been about to faint with exhaustion she would have realised, as he swung her up on Luna, that there was a look of worry in his eyes that hadn't been there before, as they rode away from the tents and arenas to the town.

***

She woke to a maid shaking her, saying "You'd best hurry and dress, miss. The Dragon's waiting in the hall for you so as you can leave as soon as possible."

Wondering why she felt so terrible, Alanna got up, groaning, and then remembered that she'd used her gift to heal the Unicorn the day before, and realised that she'd probably overstretched herself to heal such a serious wound in such a short time by herself.

Liam was striding about the hall in a foul temper, and Alanna wondered what she had done when he snapped at her to follow him as he headed for the stables. As they mounted up, Alanna noticed that Liam kept throwing worried glances at her, and by the time they'd gotten out of the courtyard and past the gate, she'd had enough of waiting.

"Are you going to tell me what I've done that you're so angry or worried or whatever it is, or just scowl all day?"

Liam didn't look at her as he replied. "You didn't tell me you were Gifted."

She snorted. "I didn't because the subject never came up. I never use my Gift, anyway, so I didn't see the point."

"You used it yesterday."

"Yesterday was an exception. I haven't used my _at all_ in the last three years, before I met you, and I don't intend to start using it on a regular basis now - but if I didn't, the Unicorn would've died. _Now_ will you tell me what's wrong?"

Liam took at deep breath, and, at last, looked at her. "No-one in Shang is Gifted. This will be another thing for the Griffin and others who oppose me to use against your becoming my apprentice." Seeing Alanna's look of outrage, he continued. "The general belief is that a Gifted person cannot learn how to use their body to it's full capacity at all times, because they always have their magic to back them up if they fail to be able to win physically. I will tell them you would not do that, since I have never seen you do such a thing, nor do I believe you would, but - I don't know, kitten."

Alanna bit her lip. The use of her nickname had reassured her that Liam wasn't angry with her - at least not anymore - but what he had said worried her. What would she do if she wasn't allowed to become a Shang?

***

Standing again before the Shang council again, Alanna felt a dawning despair as the Griffin smiled nastily at her. _I'll never become a Shang now if he has anything to do with it!_

"So - the Dragon would have us make a Gifted noblewoman his apprentice, breaking almost every tradition we have as to who may or may not become a Shang. I ask the council if we should allow this to happen, and the Dragon why he did this in the first place."

_I never thought the Shang Order could be so - political!_

Liam stood. "In answer to your question, Griffin, up until yesterday I was not aware that Alanna possessed that Gift. However, now that I do know, my belief remains the same - that Alanna should become one of us. I have seen her fight, and not once has she used her Gift. In fact, when I met her, she was eleven and she and two of her friends had been caught by some local thugs and would have been hurt quite badly had I not intervened. She did not use her gift then, although if we are to believe you, Griffin, she would have, in order to save herself and her friends. Since of all the Shang here, I know Alanna best, I feel confidant in saying she would not do such a thing."

The arguments continued for some time, and Alanna's emotions swung like a pendulum from anxiety and despair to hope as various Shang stood up, arguing for or against her.

At last, the Unicorn stood up, and all fell silent. "We have been discussing this for some time now, and I say that before we continue and make a judgment, we should know the nature of the girl's Gift, since, as I understand it, the Gift can be used in a number of different ways. What is the nature of you Gift, girl?" she said, turning to face Alanna.

Startled by being addressed, Alanna didn't speak for a moment and then, "I - I can heal, and occasionally I have visions of the future, but I can't control those. I would not use my Gift to win a fight unfairly."

The Unicorn nodded. "Well, then, I at least see no problem. If the girl is able to heal injuries she has caused or borne, I do not see it as any impediment to her fighting abilities - as was proven yesterday in front of all here, when she fought twice against a boy taller an stronger, who has been training for longer, and is one of the best amongst all of our apprentices, and beat him in one of those fights - no small achievement. I think it is best the girl leaves now, while we make our final decision."

Jake was waiting for her outside. "You did a brave thing yesterday, healing the Unicorn when you could've been thrown out for it."

Alanna glanced at him. "I wasn't aware it wasn't allowed to be Gifted in Shang."

He shrugged. "All the same, it can't have been easy for you - you obviously don't use your Gift much, or the Dragon would've noticed and told the council you were."

Now it was Alanna's turn to shrug. "I hadn't used my Gift in the last three years, up until yesterday."

Jake raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and they walked together in silence until Alanna was called back to the pavilion.

Jake gripped her elbow. "Be brave."

Once inside the pavilion again, Alanna felt stifled by the weight of so many eyes upon her, and repressed a sigh of relief when the Unicorn stood and began to speak.

"Alanna of Trebond, we have considered all arguments laid before us today, and the Shang council has made it's decision - that the Dragon may exercise the right of any one of us to take whoever they may choose as an apprentice, if that person is willing, and make you his apprentice."

Alanna wouldn't help it - the grin the spread across her face felt as if it might split her face in half, she was so happy. 

She managed to bow, and murmur her thanks, and then, somehow, she was outside again, with Jake congratulating her and promising to write, and then back at the townhouse, packing, saying goodybye to Tobias with Liam, and then they were on the road again, headed back to the convent.

Alanna glanced over at Liam - the sun was shining, the roads ahead clear, and spurred Luna to a gallop.


	12. Farewell

One of a Kind  
  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from any of Tamora Pierce's books on Tortall is not mine. Tortall and all it's varied inhabitants are TP's property, except for the ones I invented ...most of Alanna's friends, a couple of animals, and a few minor people who aren't that important to the plot.  
  
 Chapter twelve: Farewell  
  
The Daughter of the Goddess, Priestess Clothilde, strode down the narrow aisle between the row of desks her students were sitting at, praising this person's work, criticising that one's. Standing by the desk at which sat lady Delia of Eldorne and her friend lady Marisa of Alderidge, she picked up Delia's work and proceeded, as always, to praise, it, before moving onwards, and stopping at the desk behind, a frown creasing her already wrinkled brow as she looked down at the table.  
  
What she was looking at was the lady Alanna, lady of fief Trebond and apprentice to the Dragon of the Order of Shang, who at the moment, was fast asleep and in a rather large amount of trouble.  
  
***  
  
Alanna sighed as she wrote, for what felt like the millionth time, "I must not fall asleep in class, and I must remember to act at all times like a lady." and resisted the temptation to mutter some of the rather rude and imaginative names she'd been thinking up for the priestess Clothilde for the last hour and a half out loud, knowing from almost five long years of experience that she would hear, and then Alanna would get even more lines to write - not a pleasant way to spend a perfectly nice late summer afternoon.  
  
It wasn't like there was anything worth staying awake for in any of Clothilde's classes - it wasn't Alanna's fault Clothilde could make you fall asleep in five minutes with her droning voice - not unlike that of the fly at the window - even if you'd just taken a potion potent enough to keep the dead awake.  
  
Smiling slightly in relief as she finished the 500th line, Alanna stood up, gathered her books and handed the sheet of parchment to Clothilde, then walked quickly out the door before the old priestess could find something else to criticise about her, flipping her coppery plait over her shoulder.  
  
***  
  
"Letters!"  
  
Alanna glanced up at Rhia, forgetting for the moment her soup, and glanced towards where one of the servants had entered with a small sack, and was now handing them out to various maids and apprentice priestesses to bring to the convent's inhabitants. Unless it was something particularly urgent, sent by a private messenger, letters always arrived on Monday, and provided a highlight in what was not the most interesting of lives.  
  
One of the younger apprentices walked over, her blond hair flowing free down her back, to hand them over to the girl's at Alanna's table, and Alanna smiled warmly at her cousin as she approached. Like Alanna, Juliette had hated the thought of becoming some giggling noble lady, but unlike Alanna, she had chosen to become a priestess as a way to escape it - something Alanna had once considered, before she met Liam.  
  
She deposited the letters with a smile, and made a quick few hand movements before catching the eye of one of the senior priestesses, and hurrying back to the apprentices' table. Alanna had learnt the priestesses' sign language better than most, and was glad of it, because when Juliette had arrived at the beginning of the year, she, like all apprentice priestess, had taken a vow of silence until she was initiated fully.  
  
Alanna glanced at her letters. There was, as always, a letter from Thom, and two others from Coram and Maude. Alanna shoved them into her pocket - she'd read them that night, after her evening lesson with Liam - now that she was officially his apprentice, her old lessons with Sophia and the others had been replaced by another with Liam. Glancing over at the others, she saw that Rhia had already opened one of her's, although she laid it down after a moment with a sigh. Tat, however, was frowning as she looked at the single piece of parchment she held, a very un-Tat like thing to do.  
  
"Tat? Tatiana? Something wrong?"  
  
She looked up. "It's a note from the First Daughter."  
  
Rhia leaned over, curious. "The First Daughter sent you a note? That's odd. Normally she just gets Sophia to come and yell at us or whatever."  
  
Alanna leaned over too, reading the brief note. "Wonder why she wants to see you."  
  
Tat shrugged. "No idea. I'll find out soon enough, though. Come with me?"  
  
Rhia nodded, but Alanna shook her head. "Better not. Liam gets mad if I keep him waiting."  
  
***  
  
Rolling out of bed at dawn the next morning, Alanna jogged down the many flights of stairs to where she and Liam always held their morning workout, and quickly began her warm up, partly because was eager to get her beginning exercises over and done with, and partly because there was a chilly feel to the air, and she was dressed lightly in loose cotton breeches and a tight-fitting cotton shirt that reached only to her waist and left her arms bare but for two very thin straps. Liam won their mock fight, as always, and Alanna ran back up to her room to change before going to breakfast, eager to find out what had been so important to the First Daughter about Tat - they hadn't gotten into any mischief recently - well, not important stuff, only the little things they always did. And Alanna would've been called in too, if that had been the case.  
  
Running to the dining hall, Alanna stopped for a moment to catch her breath, and check that her skirts and hair were in order, before waking in and sliding into a seat beside Tat, who, Alanna was surprised to find, looked utterly miserable.  
  
"Tat, what's wrong? Who died?" Alanna asked, then bit her tongue the moment the words were out of her mouth. What if someone _had_ died?  
  
Tat managed a small and unconvincing smile as she glanced at her friend. "No one, but - oh Lanna, they're sending me to Corus tomorrow! With Delia, of all people!"  
  
Alanna's mouth fell open. Tat, leaving? Her best friend? "That's horrible!" she gasped, and looked over at Rhia, who was wearing an expression that mirrored her own.  
  
The bell rang, and Alanna and Rhiannon stood up to go to class, but Tat remained seated.  
  
"C'mon, Tat. Let's pull a couple of pranks on your last day here."  
  
"And Delia's." Rhia added. "We wouldn't want her to leave without something to remember us by, after all."  
  
Alanna glanced at Rhia in surprise - she wasn't usually that interested in pranks.  
  
Tat, however, shook her head. "I've got the day off to pack - that's what the First Daughter said. We're leaving at dawn."  
  
"We'll come and say goodbye.'' Were Alanna's last words before Clothilde came over and ushered them out of the door.  
  
***  
  
The dawn the next day dawned clear and cold, lighting up the mist that had collected in the valleys surrounding the convent. Alanna was dressed in her normal fighting clothes, but with a tunic and cloak thrown over the top; Tat was wearing a stiff lady's dress, her cream coloured hair piled in a complicated knot on the top of her head.  
  
Fighting tears, Alanna and Rhiannon hugged Tat, exchanged promises to write, and then, with a bow, the driver handed 'lady Tatiana' up into the waiting carriage, and she was gone.  
  
Alanna watched the carriage draw away, feeling for all the world like sitting down right there on the convent's front steps and bawling. Tat had been there from the very beginning of her life at the convent, and now she was gone. Then, with a jolt, Tat's final words struck her - "I expect it won't be too long til you come to Corus anyway." I'm fifteen, she thought. I'll be sixteen in three months - and midwinter is in five.  
  
***  
  
Alanna looked up at the stars, tracing the constellation of the Goddess with a finger. It'd been a week since Tat had left for Corus -she could well be there already.  
  
Something cold touched her wrist, and she jumped, reaching for her boot dagger out of habit, then relaxing as she realised it was only a kitten.  
  
Probably from one of the stable cat's litters. Gathering up the kitten, who had crawled into her lap, she tilted it's - his, she was sure it was a he - head up, and almost dropped him as she realised that his eyes were a deep violet that matched her own.  
  
"Good evening, my daughter."  
  
The voice was deeper and richer than that of a mortal woman, and Alanna jumped up again in fright, the kitten squeaking in protest.  
  
_Well, if this isn't just my night for unexpected visitors!  
  
_The woman slipped off her hood and gestured for Alanna to sit down, which she did shakily.  
  
"Who - who are you?"  
  
The woman's only answer was to give a slight smile, one that Alanna recognised suddenly from the marble statue in the convent's temple, and Alanna's mouth dropped open.  
  
"You - why - why are you here, my mother?"  
  
The Goddess smiled again. "I felt it was time to visit you, as I do all my chosen ones."  
  
Alanna shook her head. "Me? One of your chosen ones? But - "  
  
The Goddess reached out her hand and touched Alanna's temple -  
  
~_The First Daughter reached out for her hand, and, without thinking, Alanna gave it. The priestess's eyes widened. "You have the hand of the Goddess upon you, lady Alanna. Welcome to her convent."_~  
  
Alanna stared at the Goddess.  
  
"Yes," she said. "You have known that you were one of my chosen daughters since you first came to my convent. You are troubled by the thought of going to Corus. Do not be. You are destined for great things, my Alanna, and I am watching over you."  
  
She held out her hand again, and Alanna knelt and kissed it, feeling as she did so the Goddess press something small and cold into her hand.  
  
"Wear my token, child. It will help you on your journey, and remember, I will there when you need me." Her eyes flickered briefly to the kitten Alanna still held. "Watch over her, my small friend."  
  
She shimmered, and, as suddenly as she had appeared, was gone.  
  
Alanna looked down at the kitten, and then at her clenched fist, and opened it, wondering what the Goddess token was.  
  
As golden-red light gleamed faintly around the stone, and Alanna peered at it, curious.  
  
An ember. An ember contained within a paper-thin crystal, with a tiny loop at the top just big enough to slip a thin chain through.  
  
The kitten meowed to be put down, and Alanna looked down at him, her fingers closing around the ember again, and shivered.  
  
"Well," she said. "I guess we'd best be getting inside."  
  
***  
  
Shannyn dealt well with the sudden appearance of Alanna's new pet, and Alanna threw herself fully into her training with Liam - she wanted to know as much as she could before she left for court. The cat seemed to have an uncanny ability to get anywhere in the convent, as long as that was where Alanna was, a trait which, after a few days, earned him the name Faithful.  
  
The cat also often talked to her, and once Alanna figured out that no one else could understand him and gave her rather odd looks if she talked back, began to think her comments at him whenever they were in public.  
  
***  
  
"Sir Dominic of Eagle's Reach, and the lady Tatiana of Eagle's Reach."  
  
Tat held onto her brother's arm tightly as they descended the stairs and crossed the ballroom to pay their respects to the king and queen. Although she would never admit it, except perhaps to Alanna and Rhiannon, she had been terrified at the thought of descending the stairs by herself, and her older brother had offered to escort her, since his wife, Analisa, was pregnant with their first child and in no condition to attend the celebrations for the Prince's nineteenth birthday.  
  
Once they had done that, Dominic had begun excuse himself to see some old baron or other, but Tat had cut him off. "Don't leave me alone, 'Nic, that's a horrible thing to do to your little sister at her first ball."  
  
Dominic rolled his eyes. "Come on, then, I'll introduce you to my former squire, and you can be wallflowers together.''  
  
Tapping a tall - very tall - young man on the shoulder, Dominic hurriedly introduced them. "Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, my sister, lady Tatiana." and left.  
  
"Well," began Sir Raoul. "That was quick."  
  
"It was indeed, Sir Raoul."  
  
He grimaced. "Raoul, please, lady Tatiana. Formality irritates me."  
  
Tat grinned - truth be told, she hadn't been looking forward to exchanging pleasantries - polite lies, as Alanna called them - all night, so meeting someone as blunt as she wanted to be was a pleasant surprise. "If I call you 'Raoul', then you must call me Tat. Formality is not one of my favourite things either, and, alas, my parents seemed to have an obsession with giving their children absurdidly long names."  
  
Raoul grinned back and then, sighing at something over her shoulder, asked resignedly if she would like to dance as a new dance began.  
  
"I don't like it, but my friends'll never leave me alone unless I do - d'you mind?"  
  
"No. Can I meet your friends?"  
  
"They're all talking to some new lady ... it might be someone you know."  
  
It was. Delia. Forcing herself to smile and greet her politely, as she did all the young men surrounding her - Prince Jonathan, his cousin Sir Gareth, and a young squire - Thom of Trebond, who, she thought, looked so like his sister a blind man could see it, and who was also the only young man there apart from Raoul who wasn't wearing an expression of rapt attention to whatever Delia said and did. In fact, he was wearing an expression of barely concealed dislike - not quite hate, but verging on it.  
  
***  
  
Thom walked over to his friends, intending to talk to them - one of the reasons he didn't mind social events was because they were one of the few times he could see his friends, who always seemed to be away on duties whenever he got a break from his studies and Myles' work - and discovered that they were already very much occupied with the young beauty seated in their midst.  
  
Bowing over lady Delia's hand, he frowned slightly at an odd glitter in her eyes, completely at odds with the charming smile she wore, and, curious, probed gently at her mind.  
  
_What better way to get back at the little bitch, than to make her own brother fall in love with me? Alanna'll be horrified - how perfect._  
  
Thom shuddered slightly, quickly withdrawing his magic from her mind. She was every bit as horrible as Alanna had said she was.  
  
Trying desperately to find a way to get away from his friends, and Delia, who kept insisting he dance with her, he didn't notice Raoul until he spoke, and Jon introduced him to Delia almost before he'd finished greeting them.  
  
The lady beside him smiled rather forcedly at Delia, and Thom recognised why she looked so familiar - she reminded him of Raoul's knight master so much that he felt she could only be his sister. And that meant -  
  
Delia opened her mouth again, and Thom, afraid that she was going to make him dance with her again, cut her off. Bowing to the pale beauty beside Raoul, he smiled. "Lady Tat, I presume."  
  
She grinned back at him. "And you would be either Lord or Squire Thom, I take it."  
  
Jon, Gary and Raoul looked from one to the other in confusion. "Do you two know each other?" asked Jon.  
  
Lady Tatiana smiled. "I'm good friends with squire Thom's sister, and they look so alike that I presumed."  
  
"Thom?"  
  
"Unlike you, I was actually paying attention when Lady Tatiana was introduced to your parents, and I got a very good description of what she looks like from my sister. Would you like to dance, my lady?"  
  
Tat smiled; however, Raoul looked a little put out. As they walked towards the dance floor, Thom leaned over, and whispered as close to his tall friend's ear as he could get, "We'll meet you at the windows at the far end of the hall at the end of the dance. Delia's unbearable."  
  
Raoul was at the windows by the end of the dance, and the three of them went outside to enjoy some fresh air - and being away from the crush of people.  
  
Thom retired early, blaming an early start that morning, and another one the next day, although in truth his reasons were namely to give Raoul and Lady Tat time alone - not playing matchmaker, just, speeding things along - he didn't want Raoul in Delia's clutches and this was the perfect way to stop that.  
  
***  
  
... I blame moonlight, music, ecstatic joy at not having to talk to Delia, your brother, and all the Gods for this, Alanna, but somehow I have fallen utterly in love with him. I suppose father will be pleased, at least, since our homes border one another. And before you scowl and proclaim me to be a weak court lady who fell for the first man she met who will now never pick up a weapon again, we had a bout this morning with staffs - and I came rather close to beating him, as well, so that should make you happy. Looking back over this letter, I realise it's made up mostly, if not entirely, our information about Raoul. I miss you incredibly much, and can't wait (even if you can!) for you to come to Corus so I can see you again,  
  
Tatiana  
  
Alanna smiled a little as she read through Tat's letter again, snorting at the idea of her brother playing matchmaker, and placed the letter beside her as she pulled out pen and paper to write back.  
  
The letter had arrived the week after her birthday, along with a birthday gift - a set of diamond earrings from the mines in Tat's home fief, to wear, Tat said, when she was presented to court at midwinter. Alanna had smiled at that in spite of the reminder that she would soon be leaving for what she privately considered to be worse than that part of the Black God's realm for those who had lead evil lives, because of the way it reminded her of Tat's subtle teasing.  
  
_It's good for you, commented Faithful from his perch on her armchair. You need someone around to tease you to stop you getting to serious about everything._  
  
  



	13. War

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue.

A/N: Nothing much to say here, really, except this'll have a couple of Thom scenes in it. Oh, and I base my characters (at least in looks) on either a real person or a few different ppl, so Shannyn looks like Jocelyn's maid in a knights tale, only shorter.

Chapter thirteen: War

That summer, not long after Prince Jonathan's nineteenth birthday, rumours of unrest on Tortall's eastern border began to spread through the city. Farmer's came to Corus to bring claims before the king of bandits attacking isolated homes and pillaging villages, but, though suspect, none of these so-called 'bandits' could be traced back to the Tusaine king or his family, so an uneasy peace was maintained, until Tusaine sent a delegation to Tortall at the request of King Roald, and the first blows were exchanged between the nobles of the two kingdoms....

The battlefront. Alanna sighed, tossing the letter into a small chest on her desk along with dozens of others. Thom - her twin, her bookish, magically inclined, _completely useless at __anything physical, let alone at fighting brother - was at the battlefront of the current war between Tortall and Tusaine with his knight master. _

He had been conserving his magic in case it was needed for something truly important, and Alanna, who had, though somewhat reluctantly, begun to use her magic again after healing the Unicorn's near-fatal wound, would still only use her Gift sparingly and only for healing, so they were still communicating by letter rather than by fire, as Thom preferred.

She thought of his words again ... _at least the king decided that Jon needed an experienced advisor along on his first battle command, so Myles and I are here with him, and to keep an eye on his Grace..._

"Something wrong, Alanna?"

Shannyn was standing next to her, a slightly worried frown creasing her brow.  Alanna shook her head. "No. Just," she paused, trying to think of a way to explain her myriad of fears to her friend. "I'm a little worried about Thom, that's all."

The girl nodded, and sat down, beginning to sew up a tear in one of Alanna's shirts with deft effiency. "Oh Shannyn - did I tear another one?"

Shannyn glanced up at Alanna's apologetic tone. "Don't worry, milady - my little brothers tore their clothes far more often and with less excuse than you have." At the toll of the bell that signified an hour to midnight, she stood up abruptly. "You should go to bed, milady - it's late."

Alanna groaned. "Please don't call me "milady," Shannyn - you're one of my oldest friends, after all."

Shannyn gave one of her rare, sweet smiles. The same age as Alanna, with dark hair and eyes, and a dusky complexion that gave away the hint of carthakan blood in her, and almost as tiny as Alanna, the girl resembled a doe, with a shyness of nature to match.

"Then you should go to bed, Alanna, or fear the wrath of the Dragon."

Alanna grinned. "Thank you, Shannyn. That's more like it."

***

More injured, more dying. Thom clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the smell, and the sound of the cart come to take the fallen soldiers to their grave. The fighting in the last skirmish had been bloody, with many deaths and injuries on both sides - and Thom couldn't help but be suspicious that the Duke had called Jon to a private conference, but had been called away further down the river, leaving Jon in charge shortly before the attack - and he wasn't the only one to think it strange. However, neither he nor Myles had been there that day, and there was no way they could prove that the messenger had not come from the Baron who was commanding at the post, or that if it had not, they had been induced by Roger to claim they were.

Frustration and a desperation to be somewhere, doing something that he was good at, and could help take his mind off his suspicions had driven him to the healer's tents, and Duke Baird had been only too glad of the extra set of helping hands - especially when they were hands as powerful as Thom's.

***

There had been no attacks for the last two days, and relieved or guardsman's duty, and of those of a healer, Thom had nothing left to do but wander round the camp, finally coming full circle to Myles', his, and Jon's and Douglass's tents, set close together so that Jon could consult Myles, and so both were close to their squires.

Douglass was sitting next to the empty fireplace in the semi-circle of tents, and Thom sat down next to him. He jerked his head towards Jon's tent. "Has anything happened I should know about?"

Douglass shrugged. "Don't think so. We just got back from upriver, but nothing's happened there unless you count Raoul re-reading the latest letter from lady Tatiana for the millionth time, and writing about a million drafts of a letter back." Thom grinned. Raoul and Tat's parting had been rather passionate by anyone's standard's - and public, in front of most of the first force of knights King Roald had sent. 

"Jon and Myles are his tent now, plotting something, but I have no idea what - they won't tell me a thing." Douglass continued.

Thom shrugged. "What they'll do if a Tusaine attack comes from behind the waterfall, probably. Gods I'm bored - let's go do something."

As it turned out, there was nothing much to do, so they settled for wandering in the edges of the wood, skipping rocks on a small stream that broke away from the river, as fifteen year old boys tend to do in times of boredom when body of water and rocks are handy.

The sun was just beginning to set when Douglass froze in the act of throwing a particularly good pebble. "Did you hear that?"

Thom shook his head. "No - I'll check around, though."

Thom closed his eyes, reaching into that special corner of his gift that allowed him to know people's minds. He had discovered a year or two ago that it also meant he could tell when others were near, and it proved useful now. His eyes flew open, staring at Douglass. "A party of Tusaine soldiers just crossed the river."

Douglass swore. "Let's go then."

***

Once Thom and Douglass had raised the alarm, it took what seemed like only a few moments for the entire camp to assemble in fighting order. Thom was wearing a mail shirt his sister had given him for their last birthday - _you'll need it, if you're to be a knight  - and leather leggings, along with his sword, from the Trebond armoury. One of the few advantages of smallness being a family trait was that things like armour and swords that had been specially made for other members of the family could be used more easily than if it had been made for other, larger people - as it usually had._

Jon was at the head of the force, and Thom felt a prickle of unease at seeing his friend in so vulnerable a position, then realised he best worry about his own as an arrow thudded into his shield. _This war has dragged on for far too long, Thom thought, sending a bolt of violet fire at his assailant and drawing his sword - he wasn't much good with it, but at least he knew which end was which, and if you swing a sharp bit of metal a group of people who're your enemies, you're bound to be able to wound someone __eventually._

There was a cry, louder than the other's and Thom turned in time to see Jon slump forward in his saddle, an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. Thom felt sick. He had spelled Jon's mail, rendering it virtually unbreakable, and the only sort of arrow that could do that was one with a tip small enough to get through the links - and that sort were barbed.

With a cry to Myles, Thom used his magic to push people aside from his path, deflecting yet more arrows as he and Douglass manoeuvred Darkness, with the unconscious prince slumped across his neck, out of the crowd. The faint greenish tinge as Thom burnt up another arrow was almost enough to make _him faint - they were poisoned._

***

"He'll live?"

Duke Baird nodded. "Yes, he'll live, although he'll be in no condition to fight for some time yet. As soon as he's stable enough I'm having a carriage take him back to Corus - a war zone is no place for an injured heir."

Myles nodded gravely at Baird's pronouncement, and drew Thom aside as the healer hurried off to another patient.

"Thom," he began, "when Jonathon goes back to Corus, I want you to go too. Those arrows weren't meant for just anyone, and there should be a mage there as well as Douglass and a few foot soldiers, should Duke Hilam try again."

Thom frowned. "Don't you mean King Ain?"

Myles smiled at little, in spite of the situation. "No - Duke Hilam is the king's brother, and the one who organised this, and is commanding the Tusaine army. Ain doesn't have the ambition to want to go to war over the valley - he's one of those nobles who just likes to lie around with wine on hand and a few pretty women around."

Thom nodded. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I assumed you'd learnt it in one of your other classes - but I really should know enough by now to know never to assume anything. In any case, I want you with Jon - Hilam and his brother - the younger one - are too ambitious for their own good - they wouldn't baulk at the idea of killing Roald's heir if they thought they might get a big enough piece of Tortall to become part of Tusaine in the ensuing war."

Thom had no answer to this, but his thought were whirling on the trip back to their campsite.

***

Roger had, looking every bit the concerned older cousin, used his Gift to inform the king and queen of Jonathon's injury, so by the time they got back to the Corus, weary from keeping a constant watch over the prince, they were met by a company of the King's Own, and were only to happy to hand over the unconscious prince.

Once inside the palace, they were met by an almost frantic Queen Lianne, and a grave looking king, who walked beside their son to the palace infirmary. He gestured to Thom and Douglass to walk beside him questioning them quietly enough that the queen, who was on the other side of Jon's stretcher wouldn't hear him.

"Where is Sir Myles?" 

Thom fielded that question. "He remained at the river until such time as you could send a replacement commander for J - for his Highness, Majesty. But he wanted me to come back with his Highness in case there was - something that required the attentions of a mage."

Roald nodded. "I understand that you both got him out of the fighting after he was hit?"

"Yes," said both of them, glancing at each other.

"Good," he said briskly. "There will be a council this afternoon at which I shall require you both to be present."

***

Alanna walked down the hall towards the First Daughter's rooms, wondering what had happened that the First Daughter wished to see her. The priestess guarding the door nodded briefly to her, then opened the door, gesturing her in.

The First Daughter, seated at her desk, glanced up as she entered. "Ah, Alanna. Do sit down, child."

Alanna sat, and Faithful jumped from his position on her shoulder to prowl around the First Daughter's desk, finally settling down in front of the First Daughter, who reached down absentmindedly to scratch his belly gently as she studied Alanna.

"Um - why did you call me here, First Daughter?" Alanna asked, hoping to get it over with, thinking whatever it was was probably bad.

The First Daughter smiled gently. "Nothing bad, Alanna." and Alanna bit the inside of her lip, cursing herself for forgetting that the First Daughter could read thoughts as easily as a book if she wished to, and if the person involved didn't block her.

"I didn't have to want to, Alanna. You were thinking very loudly. But that is not what I brought you here for."

Alanna frowned. _What have I done now? _

"I brought you here, because I wished to give you something. This belonged to me, when I was young. A priest of the smith god gave it to me, telling me his god had sent him a dream in which he had instructed him to make it, and then give it to me on behalf of She Who Rules Us All. I have no further use for it, but I feel that you, as another of the Goddess's chosen, would have use for it."

Reaching down, she lifted a sword from where it was resting in her lap, and handed it to Alanna.

It's black enamelled hilt was twined around with silver in a delicate vine that extended down and flowered into a wide filigree dome at the base, with a slim, deadly looking blade etched lightly with pale silver runes Alanna recognised from various temples, but couldn't read, but could only guess were some sort spell against breakage or for protection for the bearer. The hilt was made from a similar design to that on the hilt, black but for an inverted v of vines around the top.

"Thank you." she whispered. The sword fit her hand perfectly, with a weight to match.

"Use it well, Alanna. Now go, my child."

***

Alanna spun, thrusting her new sword into the empty air, paused a second, and lowered it, grinning at having completed the complicated dance without a mistake.

Re-sheathing it, she crossed to the bench where she had dropped towel and water, and took a deep draught, her grin fading as her worries returned. She had been on edge all day, without the faintest idea why, and had finally resorted to exercising to her limit, in an effort to calm herself down.

_What's up with me, Faithful? She asked her cat. Communicating via her thoughts was so often her normal form of communication to her cat, it was second nature._

_Why don't you ask your brother ... you've felt what he was feeling before now._

Alanna shook her head. _The only way would be with fire, and that would only work if Thom was near one._

_You've communicated over a distance without fire to him before now. Use your link._

Alanna stared at the cat, wondering what he meant. Then it dawned on her ... she could tell Faithful what she wanted to say by thinking at him, and when they had healed the prince, Thom had called out to her - why shouldn't she be able to think at Thom. 

She stared at Faithful. _Can I do it?_

_Nothing to lose by trying, is there?_

_Why can't you ever give me a strait answer?_

_Because I'm a cat ... I'm meant to be mysterious._

Muttering about the kitten's insufferable haughtiness, she sat down, closing her eyes for concentration. Reaching for the link, she bit her lip nervously.

_Thom? Thom, can you hear me?_

***

Thom was sitting at the council table with his head bowed and eyes closed, as around him, the king's council debated their response to the threat on Jon's life.

_Thom? Thom, can you hear me?_

His head jerked up, eyes flying open. That voice ... he had been sure it was Alanna, so clear in his ears that he'd thought for a second that somehow she was there and standing next to him.

_Thom? _

He frowned, reaching for his magic. What sort of spell was this? The link between his and Alanna's magic's seemed to be, well - vibrating. Was this the source?

_Thom?_

This time he _felt it come through the link to him. Tentatively - __Alanna?_

_Thom! What's happening?_

_I have no idea ... did you do this?_

_Yes, Faithful told me how. Has something happened where you are? I've been on edge all day but I don't know why__. Does it have something to do with you?_

Thom frowned. If the link could be used to speak into each other's thoughts, why couldn't Alanna have been feeling what he felt?

_It might be. Jon - Jon was injured at Drell, and I've been worried. That's probably it. I'm in at a council meeting now._

_Why?_

_I saw it._

_I'd better go then - his Grace isn't there, is he?_

_No, thank Mithros. I wouldn't want him__ to know about this._

And then, as suddenly as she had been there, she was gone. 

"Squire Thom?"

He jumped. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"The healers wish to know if you have an arrow left, to identify the poison with.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Thom reached into the small bag he carried, pulling out the wrapped arrow he had saved if it was needed, and placed it on the council table.

The council was dismissed shortly after that, and as he walked out, Thom wished more than ever for midwinter, when Alanna would, he hoped, be arriving at court, and there with him.

A/N: The next chapter's going to be Alanna's arrival at court, but never fear, she shall not be falling in love with anyone for quite a while yet. I have some idea of her going to Drell and the war there in chapters yet to come, as the Dragon's apprentice, but I'm not sure _how our heroine should save the day exactly - any ideas? Review and tell me what you think, pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaase?_

Aranel


	14. Corus

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sue.

Chapter fourteen: Corus

It was snowing. Alanna rolled out of bed and it was only years of training that prevented her climbing right back in again under her pile of blankets and staying there. Corus wasn't a warm country in winter in the best of places - and a convent in the mountains was anything but that.

Alanna pulled on breeches, shirt, a woollen tunic, a jacket, fur-lined boots, debated pulling on another jacket, and decided against it when Shannyn - who she had accidentally woken up stumbling around her dark rooms - pointed out that she'd have to take most of it off when she reached the practice courts or not be able to move sufficiently to fight.

Liam glanced up with emerald eyes at her arrival in the vaults that served as practise courts in winter. "You're late."

Alanna scowled back at him. "I was cold - most sensible people wouldn't be up and about in freezing vaults at this time of the morning."

"Most people aren't training to become a Shang."

"I did say most _sensible_ people." she snapped.

_Whoever said you were sensible?_

_Shut up, Faithful. It's too early in the morning for your particular brand of humour._

Alanna stretched slowly, mindful she'd have to warm up properly or risk getting injured or sick.

"You ready?"

Alanna nodded, and they began. Liam caught her a couple of times on mistakes she would not normally have made, once knocking her to the ground. Alanna scowled up at him, then stopped, letting irrational anger become cold determination. Hooking a leg round Liam's, she yanked, hard, at the same time spinning up and away, then ran towards him, kicking up, twisting, and landing a punch on his chest, spun away, then jumped up as she spun back so that both her feet connected with his jaw and chest, sending him flying to the ground.

Alanna stood over him, panting slightly, and Liam looked up at her, stunned. Then his expression turned into a slow grin. 

"Good - _very_ good. I do believe that's the first time you've ever beaten me. Congratulations."

Alanna grinned. This was a first, no doubt a first that would not happen again for some time. It was to be savoured.

"Now I want to show you a new type of sword dance - no not that one," he said as Alanna made for one of the blunt practice swords on the ground nearby. "Your sword - it's new and you need to get used to the weight and feel of it. Using it in exercises will help you do so."

So she did. And the sword whistled through the air, responding to her movements as if it were an extension of her.

Liam raised an eyebrow when they were done. "You're doing well today."

Alanna smiled, surprised and touched by the rare display of praise that day from her mentor. 

***

Sophia poked her head round the door after knocking briefly. "Alanna? Is Rhiannon there?"

"Hullo Sophia." Alanna and Rhiannon carolled.

"The First Daughter wishes to see you two now."

"Why? What'd we do?" _Surely she's not going to call us in for putting frogs in Delia and Marisa's beds, is she? _

_No,_ replied Faithful. _She doesn't know about that. Clothilde suspects, but that's nothing new about that._

"You're not in trouble," Sophia was saying. "This has nothing to do with frogs or other small pond dwelling creatures."

Alanna glared at Faithful. _ I only said the First Daughter didn't know._ The kitten commented.

_Is it just me, or are you going out of your way to be annoying today?_

_Just you._

***

Taking a seat in the First Daughter's office for the second time in a few months, Alanna wondered what the Priestess had in mind for them, and, from the look on Rhiannon's face, she wasn't the only one.

The First Daughter looked at them both for a moment, then began. "Girls," she said "you have both been tutored in this convent for a number of years, and, as you know, midwinter is in two weeks. I feel you have been taught all there is to teach you both here. Rhiannon," she said, facing the girl, "I know you are - well - younger than necessary for a lady to leave the convent, but, with the - situation - I felt you might adjust better if you were to depart for court with Alanna -" she held up a hand to stop Alanna, who had one very pale and taken in a large breath of air, no doubt to fuel the torrent of protest in her head. "And as for you, Alanna, I know that you would like to simply leave with the Dragon until such time as you are a full Shang, but, before he died, I made an undertaking to you father that you would be sent to Corus in the normal course of things, and that is what you shall do, and I would appreciate it if you stayed at least until the social season is over. There is no reason you cannot continue your studies in Corus. I have already spoken to the Dragon of this and he has no objection. You will leave the day after tomorrow, and tomorrow you shall pack your things. Goodbye, girls. I shall miss you."

"We'll miss you too," Alanna blurted out compulsively, and realised it was true - she would miss the First Daughter.

"Yes," agreed Rhiannon. "Goodbye to you too, First Daughter."

***

Alanna wrapped her cloak around her. The chilly predawn air had an insidious way of getting inside her clothes, though she hoped she would warm up once they started riding.

Joff, a hostler who had taken a special liking to Luna, lead her out, and Alanna reached for her reins, making to mount.

"My lady!"

"My lady," said the boy who was to drive the carriage, swinging down from his perch, "The carriage is for you and Lady Rhiannon to ride in. Not - I mean, I have orders to drive the carriage for you - "

Alanna ignored him, swinging one breach-clad leg up into the stirrup. The boy's mouth fell open.

"My lady, with all due respect -"

"Look," Alanna snapped, her temper getting the better of her "I -"

"Young man," Rhiannon interrupted diplomatically. "Lady Alanna and I wish to ride today. However, our maids will be glad of the carriage, and we will certainly ride in the carriage when we arrive at Corus. Hmmm?"

The boy bit his lip. "I suppose that will be alright." He turned to face Sophia. "Will it?" 

Sophia merely nodded, and Rhiannon mounted as the boy climbed back up to his seat, cracked his whip and they set of slowly, Alanna riding behind the wagon with Rhiannon, while Liam roamed ahead on Flame.

Luna pranced a bit at the sight of the thin fog they were descending into, but Topaz, Rhiannon's horse, was mountain bred in her father's stables, stepped calmly through the swirling vapours, and Luna soon grew accustomed to it.

Alanna felt an odd familiarity with the inn they stopped at that first night. It was the one she had stayed at with Maude when she first came to the convent, and with Liam when they went to Port Caynn for the meeting that made her his apprentice.

***

"This is so _boring_!" Alanna wailed, for what felt like the millionth time that morning. Rhiannon glanced up from her book.

"Why don't you read something, then?"

"I don't have anything to read."

"Then do some needlework."

Alanna's only answer to that was a snort, and Rhiannon sighed. "Look out the window."

Alanna sighed. "There's nothing to look at. Hang on." Reaching for the small metal ledge that allowed the pane of glass in the window to be lowered, Alanna yanked at it, and stuck her head and upper body out the window, uncaring that all the delicate work that had gone into arranging her curls that morning was being undone by the wind, and yelled at the driver.

"Hey! Master - master driver, how long have we to go 'til Corus?"

The boy turned slightly, looking shocked to see a noblewoman half hanging out of the window of his carriage.

"A while yet, milady."

Alanna blew the hair out of her eyes, and sat back down, slamming the window upwards as she did so. Shannyn's mouth twitched slightly, but she said nothing as she undid her lady's hair and began to brush it, pins in her mouth.

"Fine." said Rhia. "Tell me about your brother, then. I might as well be forearmed to deal with any unexpected traits in my betrothed."

***

It was very late when they arrived at Corus, so they had had supper in Alanna's rooms, and unpacked a few things before saying goodnight and going to bed, Alanna too tired even to seek out her brother.

***

Waking early the next morning, as always, Alanna stumbled out of bed and through her apartment, heading in a general downwards direction as she searched for the practise courts, where Liam had told her to meet him - their late arrival the previous night was no excuse for not turning up for training that morning.

She got a few strange looks from the servants she asked directions from, but mostly she was too tired to notice. 

Liam was down there before she arrived, late, but instead of pushing her harder than usual, as was his wont when she was late for a training session, he held to their normal pace, still pushing her limits, but not so hard she would be exhausted by the end of it. That, and the fact he excused himself early, saying he had to go and freshen up, as the king wanted to meet him, meant that Alanna was still fairly fresh when he left, so she decided to wait around for a while, curious as to whether or not any knights would be coming down - she was happy as Liam's apprentice, but all the same, she wanted to see the people who's ranks she'd once hoped to join fight - most knights main weapon was a long sword, and Alanna had rarely seen or been in a fight in which the opponents used only their swords, rather than the Shang way of unarmed fighting in conjunction with a weapon.

***

Jon had woken up shortly after dawn the next morning, heading down to the practise courts with Gary and Raoul, who had come back to Corus when a truce had been declared for winter between King Roald and King Ain, both leaving only a token force behind to guard their borders.

His shoulder had still been healing from the poisoned arrow, and he had bowed out after one match with his cousin left it aching, to watch Gary and Raoul as they fenced.

"They're both good, but the one in red isn't guarding his left as well as he should be."

The murmur was quiet, and obviously not directed at him, but the softly accented, feminine sounding tones made him turn quickly. A redheaded girl lounging on the benches nearby was watching the two knights intently, but Jon doubted she had made the comment - while it was true Gary's guard was weaker on the left than the right, it would take an experienced swordsman to spot it - no noble girl could have seen it. Still...

"Did you say something, my lady?"

Her head snapped towards him her expression startled. "Ah - yes. I was just thinking out loud - about the duel." she explained, waving a hand towards the two knights.

He gestured to the bench besides her. "May I?"

She nodded, and he sat next to her, curious. "How did you know about Gary's guarding? Most ladies wouldn't have noticed it."

"I'm not most ladies, you Highness. I know a lot about fencing."

"Well, you're very good at the theory, I must admit."

He eyes flashed, and Jon realised they were an unusual shade of purple. "I'm very good at the practical, as well."

Jon stared at her, taking in her petite, slender frame - she wouldn't be much taller than most of the pages - some would be taller, and much less sturdy looking. Was she serious?

She studied him, an expression akin to amusement flitting across her delicate features as she did so. "You don't believe me." She said flatly.

Jon opened his mouth to say something - he wasn't sure what, but she cut him off. "Somehow I think there will be only one way to convince you, your Highness. Shall we?" she gestured towards the practise courts, empty now.

_She's challenging me - me fight her!_

She stood up. "Come on then. Don't worry - I won't hurt you."

"I'm actually rather more worried about it being the other way round, my lady. But if you insist - " he added, as she lifted her chin, a dangerous look in her eyes.

He followed her down to the centre of the court, then walked to on side, to where the practise swords were kept, but was stopped by her voice. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to use my own sword."

_Her own sword?_ He turned, and realised she was holding a slim, silver and black long sword, a sheath lying discarded nearby.

He shrugged, and drew his own. _I'll just have to be a little more careful of hitting her, I guess._

Her first few strokes disabused him of the notion. She had been serious when she said she knew how to handle a sword, and she was _fast_. Within a few moments, Jon was fighting in earnest, all his knightly training coming in to keep him from losing.

It wasn't enough. After a few minutes, he thrust in, only to be deflected, and, as she twisted her sword round his blade and flicked it upwards, disarmed.

She grabbed the hilt easily as it spun towards the ground, aiming it towards his heart at her own flickered upwards to his throat.

_Defeated by my own blade._ "I yield." She grinned, flipping his sword so she held the shoulder, the short piece of unsharpened blade below the hilt, and presented the hilt back to him.

"You take being disarmed well, your Highness."

Only then did it occur to him that, although they had never met before, despite her being eerily familiar, she knew who he was, an he knew nothing of her.

The bell that signified one and a half hours after dawn rang.

"I have to go."

"Wait!" he said, a little desperately - she was so - _annoying?_ No, but close. "Can't you at least -" 

"Jon! Are you coming to breakfast or not?" It was Gary, who had come back when he realise his cousin wasn't with them. Jon turned around to answer, and when he turned back, she was gone.

***

_What an arrogant little - _Alanna paused, thinking of a word to describe him to Faithful as she hurried down the hall.

_Prince? Although he's not exactly little ..._ her cat suggested, licking a paw.

_Well, yes, I suppose that'll do ... and he is arrogant!_

_Never said he wasn't ... but what did you expect from a teenage boy who just happens to be the sole heir to the throne of Tortall?_

_I don't know ... but after I beat him he'll think twice about being so patronising, I hope. _She smiled. A win always made her happy, especially if it was against someone who was a good warrior, but most of the satisfaction had been seeing his face when he lost to her - she'd rarely seen such shock on a person's face.__

_At least to you._

***

Rhia was waiting for her when she got back. "Where've you been?" she demanded. "Since when does the Dragon keep you this long?"

Alanna grinned. "He didn't. I was just enjoying studying the techniques of the young knights."

Shannyn smiled in amusement at some inner thought. "Did you - challenge one of them, milady?"

"You didn't, did you?"

"As a matter of fact, I did -"

"Who?" Rhia demanded.

"Prince Jonathan  - and I won."

This was too much for Shannyn, who began to laugh into her hands. Rhiannon looked like she might faint. "On our _first day_ here, Alanna?"

Alanna shrugged. "He had it coming." she said as she walked into the bathroom that formed the third part of her three-roomed apartment, and the only part that was truly closed off ... the bedroom and parlour were separated by a wall that was mostly taken up by a curtained arch, and both had large arches in the outer wall led up to by three shallow stone steps out onto her balcony.

She re-emerged fifteen minutes later, washed and dressed in a dark blue velvet gown, with a high collar - modest, since Alanna refused to wear the ridiculously low necklines some gown had, her excuse being they were cold, with her red curls flowing free down her back, but for the front part, drawn back into a loose plait to keep it off her face.

She grinned. "Let's go."

***

They'd decided to wander round the palace mostly that day, hoping to run into either Thom or Tat, since it was unlikely they'd be in their rooms at that time of day, and, as luck would have it, they ran into both.

They were near the outdoor practise courts, disused in that time of year but for the jousting arena, and, hearing the clash of lances, Alanna decided she wanted to investigate, puling Rhiannon after her

A number of young knights were milling about; lances in hand, but there were few spectators. Two, however, caught her eye - a small redheaded one, and an icy blonde next to him.

Pointing them out to Rhiannon, Alanna walked up behind them, quietly until she was near them.

"Thom?"

Her twin jumped up, staring at her for a moment, then enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug, which she returned. Tat stood up, grinning, and hugged Rhiannon, then Alanna, the impromptu re-union taking quite a while as someone kept jumping up to hug someone else. Alanna introduced Thom and Rhiannon, and bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched them size each other up.

It was a good thing Rhiannon was fairly small, she decided - even though Thom had grown since she'd last seen him, and was now only on the smallish side of medium height for a young man, Rhiannon was still equal to him in height.

After an hour or two, when Alanna and her twin, who had been chatting non-stop since that first hug, began to wind down, Alanna suggested, a glint in her eyes, that Thom take Rhiannon to see the 'magic library' one of the many libraries in the palace, this one devoted entirely to all things magical.

They left, and Alanna moved to sit next to Tat. "So ... this Raoul of your's ... when am I going to meet him?"

"He's down there, jousting. See the one with black curls? That's him."

"What's he like? Tell me about him."

Tat grinned and began to do so, a subject that occupied most of the afternoon.

***

The bell tolled for dinner, and Alanna groaned.

Tat laughed at her friend's decidedly un-enthusiastic response to the thought of dining in the great hall, and dragged her to her feet.

"C'mon - I'll take you down to the Dancing Dove."

"The where?"

"The Dancing dove - it's a tavern in the lower city. They serve good food and beer, and somehow I doubt we'll run into Delia."

***

At Alanna's insistence, they'd changed into tunics and breeches before going, and Alanna had buckled on sword and dagger under her cloak.

Luna was as ready for an adventure as she, and she and Vixen pranced around at seeing each other again all the way to the lower city.

Entering the tavern, Tat dragged Alanna to a bar and told her to order, and was called briefly away as someone yelled her name.

Sitting at a small table nearby, Alanna felt a hand descend on her shoulder, and, instinctively spun, her dagger at her assailant's throat.

"Thom, calm down lad. It's me, George."

_Thom?_ Alanna frowned, remembering her brother telling her about this place - and about George Cooper.

She pulled back her hood, cautiously resheathing her dagger. "I'm not Thom."

The man's mouth dropped open at the sight of her.

"I presume you're George Cooper."

"I am - who might ye' be?"

She held out a hand. "I'm Alanna - Thom's twin." His grip was firm, dry and reassuring, and Alanna decided on impulse that she liked him. 

"George!" Tat came up behind them, calling his name. The greetings the two exchanged made Alanna realise that they were obviously friends - she probably knew him either through Thom or Raoul.

George invited them up to the top, near the huge, roaring fireplace, and began to question them - mostly Tat - about doings up at the palace, and Alanna listened, surprised at how much he knew. After a surprisingly good dinner, and a mug of ale for George and Tat, and juice for Alanna, who Liam had taught to remain sober at all times, unless you were staying at the place you were drinking at and sure of the goodwill of your host, George told them they should go, "seein' as it's gettin' late an' all."

"Maybe I should accompany ye," he said as he walked with them to the stables. 

Tat shook her head. "We're riding. Besides, Alanna and I can deal with any trouble between us, I should say."

"That's right, I can." said Alanna, mounting Luna, and shifting her cloak to show the dagger and sword belted around her hips.

George raised his eyebrows. "Be careful, then. Yer brother'll turn me into a frog if anythin' happens to ye, no doubt. He fond of you. And then Raoul'd do somethin' unmentionable to me on lady Tat's account."

Tat grinned. "We'll be careful, George."

Up at the palace, preperations were still going on for the beginning of the midwinter festival - which meant a week of balls and feasts. The halls were lit up as servants cleaned and arranged everything from tables to flowers from Carthak, imported for the festivals, and the palace looked magical as they rode up the hill to it, like something out of the fairy tales Maude had told Alanna as a child.

The hostler on duty was asleep in an abandoned stall piled with hay, so Alanna and Tat unsaddled and groomed their horses themselves, before leaving to go to their apartments, which, much to their mutual dissapointment were at opposite ends of the palace. They said their goodbyes, and Alanna trudged up to bed.

***

"What are you wearing tonight?"

"Hmmm ... Pardon Tat? What did you say?"

The girl sighed. "What are you wearing for the ball tonight?"

"Ummm ... Shannyn, what am I wearing?"

"The violet gown I made you for it, milady."

"Oh ... What?" she demanded as Tat raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't know what you were wearing?"

"You know me, I'm terrible at picking clothes for myself. I let Shannyn do it for me ... she's far less likely to muck it up than I am."

Tat threw her book at Alanna, but Alanna dodged.

"Hopeless. What happened to your aim, Tat?"

Tat grinned and dove at Alanna, who, from her vantage point of her bed, threw an exceptionally large and fluffy pillow at her, and, within seconds, the pillow-fights of their childhood were being re-enacted as Alanna's overstuffed weapon exploded over both Tat and Rhiannon, covering them in feather's which both picked up and flew at Alanna with. Some landed on Shannyn, and in a few moments she too had joined in.

Half an hour later, feathery and panting, the four collapsed on Alanna's bed, laughing happily, until a knock on the door brought them all onto their feet.

"Well," said Shannyn. "I suppose I'd better answer that."

It was Thom and Raoul, who Alanna hadn't met before.

They entered, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of the many feathers on the ground. "Has it started snowing inside the palace now?" Raoul commented.

Thom's mouth twitched. "We'll come back later." he announced, pulling Raoul out the door behind him.

"Well," said Alanna, plucking an exceptionally large feather out of her hair. "That was - interesting."

***

Alanna sat in front of her dresser, playing with her emberstone nervously as Shannyn hummed, fussing with her hair behind her. "There," she announced, tucking a final curl in with small pin, then adding a amethyst covered comb to the loose chignon. Alanna tucked one of the loose curling strands Shannyn had left behind her ear. "No," Shannyn announced. "You leave that curl right there." Alanna made a face at here in the mirror and Shannyn grinned at her as she hooked a stool around so she could apply Alanna's make up - pale lip rouge and a little shadow on her eyes, nothing more, she assured Alanna.

Tat came in, looking more like a lady than ever - not that she ever had a problem with looking elegant, thought Alanna somewhat enviously, closely followed by Rhiannon.

Tat pulled her up, inspecting her closely.

"The earrings." she said. "You should wear the earrings I gave you."

Shannyn nodded in agreement, and handed Alanna the box, and she threaded them carefully through her ears. Tat grinned. "Perfect. Don't you two agree?"

"Yes," agreed Rhiannon. "After you get over the shock of seeing Alanna like this."

She turned to Faithful. _Are you coming?_

_No, I'll stay here with Shannyn ... less chance of being stepped on ... besides; you couldn't dance with me on your shoulder._

***

When they arrived at the small antechamber where they would wait to be announced, Thom and Raoul were already there, and, to Alanna's surprise, so was Liam.

He grinned at her. "I thought you might like someone to lean on - besides, my apprentice should be introduced with me."

The chief herald looked in through the door. "My lords and ladies? Are you ready?"

There were gestures of assent from everyone in the room and Tat squeezed Alanna's arm as she walked past on Raoul's arm. "You'll be fine."

The left door swung open, and Raoul and Tat walked past. "Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and of Malorie's Peak, and the Lady Tatiana of Eagles Reach."

The door's closed again, and Alanna looked around the chamber. A concealed window not far from the door was manned by one of the younger herald's, whose job it was to see when the couple had reached and made their bows to the king and queen, and left the carpet, so that no one collided. He nodded, and the two young heralds's manning the doors pulled it open again.

"Lord Thom of Trebond, and his betrothed, Lady Rhiannon of Ruatha's Gorge."

They were next.

The boy nodded once more, and the door swung open for the third time. Liam walked out, and Alanna had no choice but to come with him, since he had trapped her arm in his own.

"Master Liam Ironarm, Dragon of the Order of Shang, and his apprentice, the Lady Alanna of Trebond."

They descended the stairs, Alanna keeping a tight grip on Liam's arm, and Alanna curtsied deeply to the king and queen. Queen Lianne frowned. "You are noble, lady Alanna?"

She nodded. "Yes, your Majesty."

"How is it you are apprenticed to the Shang Dragon? I was under the impression that the nobility were not allowed to become Shang."

Liam bowed again. "That is not so, your Majesty. We have no objection ... it is merely that most noble families do not allow their children to join us."

She nodded, and Liam drew Alanna off the carpet, handing her a glass of wine from plucked off a servant passing with a tray. 

"You always told me not to drink."

"This is an exception. You look like you're about to faint.''

Alanna made a face, but drank, anyway.

An older man with lank brown hair and eyes the same shade came over, drawing Liam away into a conversation, and Alanna headed over to her brother, who was chatting to a group of young men nearby, with Tat and Rhiannon, who were resplendent in ice-blue velvet and honey-gold silk, respectively.

Alanna tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned, grinning at her. "Why hello, my lady. May I help you?" he teased, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips.

"Thom!" she whispered furiously, blushing. "Stop it."

He made a face at her and drew her into the crowd.

"Everybody," he said. "May I introduce my sister, Alanna. Alanna, this is Gary," a tall young man with brown eyes and hair, "I'm not going to introduce you to Raoul, as you already know him - " 

"I'm hurt," Raoul said, placing a hand over his heart.

"- And Prince Jonathon."

***

Jon's eyes widened as he recognised the girl who'd beaten him the previous day. He'd seen her introduced to his parents as the Shang Dragon's apprentice, though, and the salved his wounded pride a little.

Raising her hand to his lips as she curtsied as protocol demanded, he studied her. She wasn't a beauty like Delia, but she was certainly pretty, and her slightly exotic-seeming hair and eyes combined with - _something - _a certain expression maybe, to make her more attractive than Delia's chattering classic beauty.

He released her hand, and she stepped back. Conversation resumed, but she didn't say much - he got the feeling she was observing before she spoke.

Protocol demanded he dance with each and every lady at the ball, and when she began to look bored, he decided to ask her to dance.

She was a surprisingly good dancer ... not that she showed much interest in it, so her took the opportunity to ask her what she thought of the court.

She shrugged. "It's alright, I suppose. I've just never thought of being carted off and paraded around like a prize filly for sale as being one of the main achievements in my life."

Jon was taken aback. He supposed that the presentation of young ladies to a court filled with potential suitors could be put like that, if one wanted to be blunt about it, but still...

"Well. There's not much one can say to that, I suppose."

She smiled. "No, your Highness, there's not."

Searching for something to say when the silence became uncomfortable, he said, "Well, you're not really in much danger of that, my lady, since your father's death..."

She glanced up again, violet eyes cool. "No, I'm not. Thom's far too afraid of me to dare suggest I marry anyone."

The dance ended, and Jon saw Delia hurrying up to claim him. He looked around for something to do that would get him away from her - he wasn't in the mood for her endless giggling and flirting that night, somehow, but couldn't find anything, and when he turned back, Alanna was gone, and Delia bearing towards him determinedly.

***

Alanna watched the prince and Delia leave together, raising an eyebrow.

Tat came up behind her. "I suppose it's fairly obvious she's his current mistress."

"And welcome to him ... they suit each other."

Tat looked over at her tiny friend. "He's not that bad - you should get to know him before you judge him so harshly."

"I knew Delia five minutes and knew what she was like. He's such an arrogant, presumptuous, and rude -"

"Yes, but Alanna _all _men are like that. You can't blame him for the downfalls of his sex. And he is nice on occasion." _and you two would make a gorgeous couple._ She added silently.

Alanna glanced at her friend, but Tat's face was bland and she kept her silence, bidding Tat and Rhia goodnight and saying goodnight to Thom mentally.... she couldn't spot him in the crowded ballroom and she was beginning to feel sick from the noise, smoke and wine, and bed seemed very attractive.

When she got back to her rooms there was a note from Liam ... the training master wished him to teach some basic fighting elements of Shang to the pages and squires, and Liam wanted her to assist him. She groaned ... the idea of even the most basic of punch's seemed beyond her for now, and, uncomfortable as is was, she collapsed fully clothed onto her bed, falling asleep before she could even summon the energy to kick off her shoes.


	15. Knightly Business

**One of a kind**

Disclaimer: The land of Tortall and all it's inhabitants are the property and invention of Tamora Pierce (with the exception of the characters I made up).

Chapter Fifteen: Knightly Business

Midwinter was over, thankfully. The endless balls, feasts and parties had begun - _more _than begun, to be honest - to grate on Alanna's nerves.

Now, much to her relief, she had a chance to do something she was actually good at - mindless chattering had never been one of those things.

Changing, as always, into one of her many sleeveless tops, and loose, light breeches - a mixture of cotton and wool, she pulled on a loose tunic, unsure where the day's lessons would be taking place.

***

She had met with Liam for a quick training session and warm up before the first pages began to file down to the inside courts (it was snowing outside), for the lesson's King Roald and Duke Gareth had asked Liam to give them. Most of them ignored Alanna, seated high up on the layered bench's with Faithful, though a few glanced at her curiously, no doubt wondering what she was doing there dressed in such clothing.

Liam was standing further down, talking to the Duke, who had come in with the pages, and most of the attention was on them. The duke nodded at something Liam had said, and murmured a reply, glancing at the pages. They shook hands briefly, and the Duke departed.

Liam strode out into the centre of the enormous main court, the pages having by now taken seats on various benches surrounding it, clustered together, talking.

"Everyone! Listen!"

They did - there was something in Liam's voice that gave his words a silent _or else._

"Duke Gareth has asked me to teach you some basic elements of Shang fighting. I shall endeavour to do so. Whether or not it actually sinks in is another matter, and entirely up to you. _However -_" he said, glaring at a boy who looked like he was nodding off at those words, "- while you are in my class, you will be attentive to what I teach you. Is that understood?"

There was a general chorus of  'yes' around the court, and a few sat up slightly straighter. There were some classes you could be lazy in, Alanna knew. Liam's were not one of them.

"Assisting me will be my apprentice, Alanna -" here he waved a hand towards her, and the boys stared at her. "You will accord her the same respect you do me, and all you other teachers. Should you not, I will not intervene on your behalf with her."

A few laughed, but Liam seemed so completely serious, they stopped quickly.

"Right," he said. "Let's begin."

***

More classes came, pages of varying ages for most of morning, then, in the afternoon, the squires.

She had had to restrain a laugh at the face Thom made at her when he came in with his year-mates, and when she found herself correcting him in a stance she had assumed so many times in the previous years it had become instinctive. 

It was during one such inspection of stances - the year above Thom - that Alanna was walking along the row of squires, when she felt a hand reach out behind her and slap her on the behind. Alanna spun, grabbing the squire by his shirtfront and slamming him back against a wall, her dagger at his throat. The other squires stared at this display of the petite girl's strength - Alanna was much stronger than she looked.

She glared at the squire with eyes hard and cold as ice. The boy's face was pale. "Master Ironarm!" he called. Liam glanced up from where he showing another squire a simple punch, and then went back to concentrating on the boy's blow.

"Master Ironarm!" he called again, more desperately this time. Liam sighed and looked up. "I did say I wouldn't interfere on anyone's behalf, young man."

"But -" 

Liam ignored him, and the boy looked at Alanna with real terror in his eyes. She pressed her dagger to his throat. "What do you say?"

"I -"

"Surely you can't be entirely lacking in manners, dolt! What do you say?"

"I - I'm sorry. I won't - I won't do it again."

 She dropped him at her feet, resheathing her dagger as she glared down at him. "See that you don't." she spat, before turning on her heel and stalking away, head high.

***

Her encounter with the squire had left her in a bad mood, and the last class of the day all got a thorough lashing from Alanna's tongue.

"Are you sure you scared them enough? I thought that between us, me and the daughters at the convent had taught you how to restrain your temper by now."

"Oh, so you think I _shouldn't _be angry?" her voice shot through with barely contained fury.

"No, only that you succeeded in making an entire year of squires terrified of you when they did nothing to deserve it." he said, his eyes a flat grey-green.

Alanna opened her mouth to yell at him, then realised she had been acting childishly, and yelling at him would only prove his point. It was hard, though, to close her mouth, turn around and gather up Faithful, and walk out of the court. It was fortunate the door was too big for her to slam, otherwise it most certainly would have been.

***

"Lady Alanna!"

She turned to see Prince Jonathan hurrying towards, her, sighed, and wondered just how bad a breech of courtly manners it would be to turn and walk away.

He was beside her. _Too late now, in any case._

She bowed, remembering she wasn't wearing a dress just in time to stop herself making a horribly embarrassing mistake.

"Yes, you Highness?"

"I was wondering if you had seen your brother. I'm looking for him." 

_No, really? I never would've guessed._

"No, your Highness, I haven't."

"Are you sure?"

_Of course not, I'm incapable of recognising my own twin._

"Yes, I am sure. Why don't you go look for him? After all, you're the one who's had all the knightly training - surely you could make a guess at where he is."

The prince looked taken aback. "I was just asking - I didn't mean to offend you, my lady."

"Well then perhaps you shouldn't have treated me like an idiot just because I happen to noble and a woman!" Alanna bit her tongue, realising belatedly that she'd yelled at her future king. "Excuse me, you Highness - I have to go."

***

"She just started yelling at you for no reason at all?"

Jon nodded.

"Well what do you expect?" Raoul pointed out. "She's Thom's sister, after all."

"Whose side are you on?" Jon demanded. Raoul merely shrugged and kept silent.

He glared at Thom, who had remained silent throughout the discussion. "I'm more afraid of my sister than I am of you." he said bluntly.

Jon groaned, throwing up his hands, and Gary chuckled from his seat on the other side of the room. "Don't worry, cous - I'll stand by you." Jon threw him a look that plainly said, _gee, thanks Gary._

***

A month and a half later, Alanna had settled into a comfortable routine of training, assisting Liam with the classes he held gave every few days, the occasional ball or feast (not exactly enjoyable, but a part of life), and free days spent with Tat when she wasn't with Raoul, Rhiannon, and Thom, when the two either weren't together of their own accord - they had become friends, sharing an interest in magic and general studious things - or Alanna and Tat hadn't conjured them up some reason to be together - both hoped that friendship might develop into something more.

She and Prince Jonathan spoke rarely - her embarrassment at her behaviour and the fact that he'd assumed that she was one of the few ladies who _didn't _like him, meant they generally avoided each other as much as possible, and, as each assumed the other disliked them, they tended to react accordingly - the age-old _I don't like you either,_ approach.

However, un-beknownst to Alanna, Tat had plans to change all that, and Thom provided an unconscious helping hand.

***

Thom, Gary, Douglass and Raoul had all gathered in Douglass's rooms to discuss the war. Thom was explaining his thoughts to the others.

"Once the snows melt, and we all set out again to the river Drell, Jon's going to want to come, and he'll manage it, I'll wager, unless King Roald decides not to let him. And if Tusaine tries to attack him directly again, like they did last summer, it would be better if we were all there with him, not separated up and down the river like we were last time - you two should be there." he said, nodding at Raoul and Gary.

Gary nodded. "I agree - it's too risky to have him alone there with only a couple of knights and some arms-men. I don't know why uncle didn't see that last time - he and the queen are usually, if anything, overprotective of Jon."

Thom thought he knew why but wasn't about to say.

There was a knock on the door connecting Jon and Douglass's rooms, and Jon's head poked round. "I heard voices ... oh. Can I come in, or is this a private meeting?"

Thom waved him in, and he sat down. "What were you talking about?"

"Oh ... this and that. The war at Drell, you ... just stuff."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes ...." Thom drawled. "Actually, we were talking about what happens at Drell come summer. We wanted to see if we could get Gary and Raoul re-posted so they're near you if Tusaine ... struck again."

Jon lifted his chin. "Oh? And why might that be?" He glared at them. "I'm not a baby, you know ... I don't need protecting. I -"

There was another knock, this time at the door that led onto the hall that ran through that wing. Douglass got up to open it, and Alanna stepped in. "I was looking for Thom ... Are you busy?" she asked her twin.

"We're discussing the war." he said, then bit his tongue - that was the wrong thing to say to Alanna.

"Really? I'll hang around then, 'til you're done."

Jon glared at her. "I would _prefer _it," he said frostily, "if certain people weren't here." 

"Something in your eye, your Highness?" Alanna asked innocently.

"No, my eyes are fine, thank you very much, but -"

"That's it!" Thom yelled, bounding out of his seat. "I have had enough! Can't you two at least _try _to act your age?"

Alanna stood up, intending to yell at her twin, but he waved his arm violently at the door to Jon's room, his magic throwing it open and Alanna inside, Jon following a few seconds later, and the door slammed shut. Alanna distinctly heard the sound of the locks clicking shut, and ran to the main door. It was no use ... Thom had locked that one too. 

"Thom!" she yelled, running back to the other one and pounding on it. "Thom, let me out _right now_! Thom!" 

There was no answer, and Jon joined her. "Thom! Let us out! That's an order, Thom!"

Still no answer.

Ten minutes of pounding on the door and yelling proved that either the people in the adjoining rooms had astonishingly resilient eardrums, or that they were simply no longer there. Alanna turned around, sinking to the ground against the door, head in her hands, muttering about what she intended to do to her brother when she got out.

Jon sighed, resting his head against the wall. After a few moments he turned and looked at Alanna. Had he not known just how angry she was, he would've thought she looked oddly vulnerable ... she wasn't much bigger than some children, truth be told.

"Come on," he said. "Get up."

She glared up at him resentfully. "Don't tell me what to do!"

He sighed again. "I didn't mean it like that." he snapped back, his tone as sharp as her's had been. He closed his eyes briefly, making himself calm, impassive. "Look," he said. "If we're going to be here for a while we might at least be comfortable." he gestured towards the sofa by the fire.

 Alanna sighed, got up, and plonked herself down on it, curling her feet up under her as she half-sat, half-lay on the sofa, her head resting on arms folded over the stuffed arm of the sofa.  She squirmed, reaching down behind her, and finally pulled out an indecently small scrap of black lace that just might pass for an undergarment on a fat day. 

She dangled it between the nails of thumb and forefinger, raising an eyebrow at the prince. 

"Delia's?" Her mocking voice made it more statement than question, and Jon blushed, snatching at it. "Give me that." Failing to find anything else to do with it once he had grabbed hold of it, he tossed it towards a nearby desk, then blushed again as it landed on the fire, and Alanna snorted in amusement.

_How long has that been there? I haven't well - seen - Delia for a month at least._

Trying desperately to think of something to say that wasn't to do with court or Delia, he blurted out, "So, how did you meet the Dragon, anyway? I somehow feel it wasn't that he dropped by the convent one day."

She glanced at him. "I was at the City of the Gods with Tat and Rhiannon. Some louts attacked us and Liam intervened." she said shortly, then returned to staring at the fire, which by now had consumed the lace.

"Oh."

There seemed nothing to say, so they sat for a time in uneasy silence, Jon in an armchair, and Alanna on the overstuffed sofa. When the silence became unbearable, Jon pursued the question of Alanna's apprenticeship again.

"If that was how you met him, why did he choose you to be his apprentice? Not that I doubt your fighting ability but..."

"Not everyone shares your views that noblewomen are useless ornaments, your Highness."

"Well most are!"

"But not all!" she cried, coming to her feet. "I don't believe you! You're so ... presumptuous and rude and ... why do you enjoy irritating me so?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you always rise to occasion so magnificently, lady Shang?"

She scowled at him. "I can't take this anymore. I'm leaving."

"Have you forgotten the slight problem of the magically locked doors?" he called after her.

She stalked to the main door, and placed her hands on the lock. He _felt_ her power building up, and then there was a purple flash, and she was lying on the floor. She _did_ look vulnerable now, her face pale and small against the copper cloud surrounding it. Shaking his head, he picked her up, considered the rather uncomfortable-for-sleeping-on couch and placed her on his bed. Curious, he walked over to the door, tried the handle, and found it open.

***

Alanna groaned, opening her eyes, and watched Prince Jonathan's face swim into focus above her.

"You fainted." he told her matter-of-factly.

She nodded. "I guessed that - that always happens when I break open one of Thom's spells - his Gift is stronger than mine."

"Well," he said. "It worked - the door's open."

"It is? Why didn't you leave?"

"Because then I would lose any standing I might have left in your eyes as a gentleman." he teased, then realised what he was doing and blushed, as did Alanna.

"Well," she said. "Thank you then, for - for taking care of me. I'd better go now."

***

Faithful was sitting in Shannyn's lap and yowled a greeting when she opened the door. Shannyn stood up as the cat leapt off her, coming over.

"What happened?" she demanded.

Alanna rubbed her head, which was pounding from the way she'd just abused her Gift. "Long story. Suffice to say Thom is in _very_ big trouble."

Faithful yowled again.

_And the prince in better favour than he's ever been._

_Don't be ridiculous, Faithful. The man helped me out ... it's not a crime to say thankyou!_

The cat said nothing, but, with infuriating calmness, licked a paw and rubbed it over an ear, and Alanna resisted a temptation to do ... well, something horrible at any rate.

Shannyn walked over to the small dressing room-wardrobe that led off Alanna's bedroom, re-emerging with a pale green-gold velvet gown, and Alanna realised belatedly that her current one was very much crinkled and dusty. Shannyn laid the gown over a chair and began to unlace the back of the dress.

"What did Thom do?"

Alanna sighed. "He threw a fit and locked Prince Jonathan and I into his Highness's rooms. Apparently we were acting childishly."

Shannyn said nothing, merely picked up the dress that lay over the chair, and pulled it over Alanna's head - another reason Alanna preferred breeches and shirts for everyday wear - they didn't require someone else to help you dress.

***

Alanna looked down at her plate, speared an unfamiliar vegetable with her fork, resisted the temptation to make a face, and choked it down.

"Not nice?" Tat asked from her seat beside her, and Alanna gave a vehement shake of her head.

"No - not really." Half the plate was covered in them. _Suddenly, I don't feel that hungry._

"C'mon," Tat said. "Let's go."

The smaller ballroom that adjoined the dining hall was semi-filled with nobles, musicians playing softly in the background, but the dancing wouldn't begin until the last course had been cleared away and the rest of the court came in to chatter and flirt.

Alanna curled up into a window seat, chatting quietly to Tat, until Raoul came up to ask her to dance, when Alanna resorted to staring out the window.

"Hullo."

Alanna looked up - Prince Jonathon was standing in front of her. She stood up and curtsied slightly. "Hullo your Highness."

"You looked lonely. May I join you?"

She shrugged. "If you like."

"So ... how've you been?" his voice was unusually gentle. _What's this?_ Alanna wondered.

"Not to bad. You?"

He nodded. "Likewise." He looked up, and swore. 

Alanna frowned. "Something wrong?"

He jerked his head in the direction he'd been looking in. "Delia."

Alanna made to stand up. "Well - I'll be leaving, then."

He sighed. "Please don't. Look - would you like to dance?"

"I don't like to dance, your Highness - you know that."

"Please - just - just dance with me, this once. So I can get away from Delia."

Alanna raised an eyebrow. "As you wish, your Highness."

The waltz was a fairly simple one, and Alanna kept an eye on Delia as she spun around the floor. The girl was making her way through the crowd, following them so she could intercept Jonathan once the dance ended.

They whirled to a halt, and Alanna, seeing Delia not so very far away, turned on her heel and headed for the open doors leading onto one of the many balconies there were in this section of the palace. The prince hadn't relinquished her hand, though, so she found herself dragging him after her. 

Once in the open air, she yanked her hand out of his, and headed for the part of the stone railing that connected with a wall, knowing Delia would be there soon - Mithros that girl was determined!

The prince followed her, and she grabbed the railing, hoisting herself up so she was standing on the wide marble top.

He grabbed her hand. "What in Mithros' name do you think you're doing?"

She looked down at him. "What - you've never climbed something to get away from someone?" He looked up at her, confused. "The roof, idiot! Are you coming or not?"

His expression cleared, and he pulled himself up behind her. She reached for the low section of roofing supported by the wall. Standing on the fence it was just low enough for her to grab hold of the stone guttering and pull herself up - and Jonathan unexpectedly helped, pushing her up, then scrambled up himself behind her.

"Nice," he commented. "I wouldn't have thought of that."

She looked at him, and he could just make out her mouth twitching in the darkness. "Yes, well -" she left the sentence hanging, and leaned back on her elbows, looking out at Corus - the view was better on the roof, away from the noise and light, she had found - the lights of the city like a reflection of the thousands of stars above them.

"It's beautiful out here," she murmured, more thinking aloud than anything else. Jon looked at her in surprise - he hadn't expected such a comment from her.

"Do you think anyone will find us?" he asked.

She glanced over, violet eyes shining in the darkness. "I doubt it. Maybe Thom, but anyone else -"

He frowned slightly. "How would Thom find us?"

She cocked her head to one side, as if to ease a stiff neck. "We can usually find each other if we set our minds to it - and, when were little, we - I, really - used to climb trees, roofs, anything, when I wanted to hide from someone, and I could usually bully Thom into coming with me."

They lapsed into silence again, but a comfortable silence this time.

Alanna rested her chin on her knees; arms clasped around her legs, and closed her eyes, savouring the feel of the wind ruffling her curls, left loose but for the front part drawn back with a comb.

"Lady Alanna?"

Alanna opened her eyes, and tilted her head to look at him. "Yes, your Highness?"

"I was hoping we could - well, if not be friends, at least declare a truce of sorts? You're not actually that bad when you're not -"

"Going out of my way to be unpleasant?" she finished for him.

He grinned. "I was trying to find a way to say that that wouldn't make you rush at me with drawn sword."

She shrugged. "As you wish, your Highness."

He winced. "Please, lady Alanna - I prefer my friends call me Jon - or at least Jonathan."

Alanna raised a slender copper eyebrow. "So I'm your friend, then, your Highness?"

"Unless you have any particular objection to it."

"Not really - as long as you stop calling me 'lady Alanna'. It grates on my nerves."

"So what am I supposed to call you?"

"Well Alanna suits just fine, Jonathan."

He smiled. "Thank you."

The bell for midnight rang nearby, and Alanna clapped her hand over her ears - it was incredibly loud from where she was.

"Come on," Jon said. "We'd better get in - people might start wondering where we are."

He turned and half walked, half slid down the roof  'til he was back where they'd started, and climbed over the ledge, dropping onto the wide stones. He turned to help Alanna down, but she'd already dropped onto the fence, silent as a cat.

He jumped down onto the balcony, and held out his arms to Alanna. She paused, thinking, then allowed him to help him down - she could've easily done it herself, even in her dress, but if he wanted to be a gentleman, so be it.

"I'll walk you back to your rooms." He offered, but she shook her head. "No - it's not that far from here." she turned; slipping into a small door leading off the balcony, in the wall they had climbed together earlier that night.

She smiled, running lightly down the stairs. _Tat's right - he's not that bad._

***

Tat watched them from the window seat she occupied looking out on the balcony and gardens - things were going well. And unbeknownst to her, Duke Roger also watched the two. The two were friends, nothing more - but they hadn't been until that night, and the Duke decided he'd best watch the young lady Shang very carefully indeed.


	16. Return to Drell

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue.

A/N: The italics weren't working for the last chapter or two, so I've re-uploaded them. Sorry this has taken a while, but I've had a case of that which is the bane of an author's life - of writer's block. Oh, and as someone noticed before, the whole "why do you enjoy irritating me" thing last chapter was taken from ever after - great movie. And now - on with the story!

Chapter Sixteen: Return to Drell

Shannyn put down her lacework at a rap on the door, re-appearing a moment later with a grim looking Liam behind her. Alanna looked up from her letter, smiling. "Hello Liam."

Liam smiled back, though rather unconvincingly, and plopped into an armchair without waiting for an invitation.

Alanna frowned. "What's wrong - you look like someone just died."

Liam exhaled loudly. "The king has requested that I go to Drell with the army."

Alanna bit her lip. "We're going to Drell?"

Liam looked at her. "Perhaps. I certainly will be - but I don't know about _you_."

"I'm not going? Why not?"

Liam rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "You're very well trained, Alanna, but I'm not really sure I want you in the middle of a war - you're only sixteen, after all." He held up a hand as Alanna opened her mouth to protest. "It's far more dangerous than one-on-one combat, Alanna, and you've had little experience in large fights. The knights here have been trained to work as a unit - Shang are solitary creatures."

"You don't think I can handle it."

"I didn't say that - I said that I wouldn't want to put someone with your experiences into a war."

Alanna lifted her chin. "Well I'm damned if I'm going to sit 'round all summer while you and my brother and everyone else gets to go and -"

"Risk their lives on a daily basis?"

She scowled. "I do that anyway."

"Not on this level."

"Well how am I going to get this experience you're talking about if I don't go?" she exploded. "You supposed to be teaching me all forms of combat - how can I learn about war if I don't experience it?"

Liam stood up, eyes blazing pure emerald. "Fine!" He snapped back. "But don't blame me when you don't enjoy the experience!"

***

"Drell's not far from here," Thom informed her, standing up in his stirrup's to get a better bearing. "Just over this rise you can see where we're camped."

Alanna nodded. "What is it like?"

"Last time we were here, it was nice, if you like the outdoors. Good grazing land all through the valley, which is half the reason Duke Hilam -"

"Don't you mean King Ain?" Alanna interrupted.

Her twin shook his head. "No - Duke Hilam's the one that's directing the army, and the king's advisor."

"So what's the other half?"

"Pardon?"  
"If the grazing lands half the reason for the war, what's the other half?"

"It'll give him a toehold on Tortall," Sir Myles informed her, dropping back from where he'd been talking to Jonathan in the front of the column of riders. Alanna had met him the first time when she called on Thom in his rooms, and the old knight had provided much of the theory and reasons behind the wars Liam taught her about. "The duke's ambitious - his brother only wants to be left in his pleasure gardens to enjoy his drugs, wine and women - which are mostly the reasons he has no queen or heir. His brothers - mainly Hilam, run the country for him, so since he's already the unofficial king, Hilam turns his ambition to building an empire - and the river will give him a way into Tortall, slowly nibbling away at our borders unless he is stopped."

"We're here." Thom murmured.

"Yes - to stop him." Alanna said.

"No - I meant we're at Drell - there's the waterfall, see?" He said, pointing.

"Oh," Alanna bit her lip - there was an uneasiness about the place she couldn't seem to shake off. The army trailing in from Tusaine resembled a spider, lurking on the river, waiting to pounce, and Alanna shuddered.

"Something wrong?"

"No - I'm just - I'm just cold, that's all." 

Thom glanced sideways at his twin. There was something more, but he had enough experience to know not to pry when Alanna wanted whatever it was to be kept secret.

***

King Roald had sent Liam along as an advisor for Jonathan, so when they set up camp, Jon, Gary, Raoul, Myles and all their respective squires set their tents clustered close together. Liam's tent was also in this cluster, but Alanna's was set slightly apart for propriety's sake. She had just finished getting everything organised into it and was planning on going and taking a look around, when she heard a thump on the heavy canvas wall of the tents.

"Oi, 'Lanny, are you coming to lunch?"

She poked her head out the tent door, smiling sarcastically at Thom's glaring face.

"Thanks - but I might give it a miss - I'm not really hungry."

Not hungry? After that ride? Are you sick, 'Lanny?"

"Sick? Who's sick?" Queried Jon, having come up close enough to have heard Thom's last words.

Alanna shook her head. "No one's sick - I'm just a little tired after the ride, is all."

Jon frowned. "Are you sure? You look pale."

Alanna made a face, discomforted by his uncharacteristic concern. "I'm always pale - go to lunch."

Jon hesitated, and Thom grabbed his arm. "C'mon, Jon, don't defy my sister - you'll regret it."

***

Liam roared his battle cry, his sword cutting heavily into the shoulder of the man below him, chain mail and all. Thom glanced over squeamishly, and Alanna swore, flinging up her shield to block the mace that swung towards her brother's unprotected head.

"Thom!" She shrieked, her high voice clear above the clash of battle. "Shield yourself!" The priestess's old sword was out, flickering in the light of torches flung to the ground and fires starting amongst the forest litter, the ancient runes on it gleaming and seeming to slide along it. She flung up her shield again, stabbing low beneath it, and couldn't quite suppress the sick feeling she experienced feeling it slide free with a horrible sucking sound.

She was so intent upon fighting her way back to her twin, who she had been separated from by the knight with the mace, that she hardly noticed the wild Tusaine yells, until she glanced up and realised that Thom and Jon, along with Liam, Myles, and Raoul and Gary, who had stuck by Jon's side from the moment battle began, were being herded away from theTortallan army. Luna shied to one side as a flung axe connected with a tree near them, flinging them to the edge of the flighting, and Alanna spurred her desperately through the trees, galloping along the shallow side of the river in a cloud of mist, Luna whirling round on her hind legs to crash down on the soldiers beneath them, Alanna brandishing her sword high as fought alongside her brother and friends.

She twisted to hack towards a Tusaine knight's unguarded neck as he struck towards the little group, and felt a sword  from an unseen opponent slice along her unprotected side.  She fell forward, gasping as her blood soaked Luna's palely shining neck.

Though a bloody mist, she heard cheering, felt strong hands lift her gently off Luna, the unmistakable shimmer of healing magic pulsing through her, before the blackness of sleep enveloped her.

***

"Why can't I get up? I'm fine!" Alanna insisted to Duke Baird. He, however, shook his head.

"You'll be fine in a few days, but right now, I want you back in bed so you don't stretch yourself and open that scar again - you'll be in bed for a lot longer if you do."

While the healer in Alanna knew he was right, she fretted at her forced inactivity. 

"Can't I at least do _something_?"

The duke shook his head. "Tomorrow, maybe. It depends on how cooperative you are. Now get some rest, young lady - I have other patients to attend to."

Still grumbling, Alanna lay back. Jon entered the tent as Baird left, and sat down on a small stool near the bed. "Feeling better?"

Alanna made a face. "Much - Baird won't let me up, though."

Jon leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not surprised. That was a nasty wound, what I saw of it when I got you down."

Alanna sat bolt upright. "That was _you_?"

He nodded. "Don't look so surprised - you're my friend, why shouldn't it have been me?"

Alanna shrugged, lying back on her pillows. "No reason. Why're you here - I get the feeling you're not just simply visiting a somewhat under the weather friend?"

He grimaced. "You're right - we beat Tusaine in that last battle, the one you were injured in, and now they want to discuss peace terms. The place is going to be a castle amongst these disputed lands - a Tortallan count's. I was hoping you'd be well enough to attend, seeing as how you have some - interesting - viewpoints on certain things. Did you bring a dress?"

Alanna's mouth fell open. "A _dress_? Honestly, Jon, I'm hardly likely to bring a dress along to a war, now am I?"

He grinned. "Well, in that case I'm sure the Contessa won't mind having her dressmaker make up a gown for you - "

"If I'm there as a warrior, Jon, I'm going to be there in tunic and breeches, not a gown!"

He shrugged. "Ah, well, you see, I would prefer it if you wore a dress - it'd make you somewhat less conspicuous, and I don't want you earmarked by the Tusaine as one of the people on their assassins' hit list's. Think of it as being one of Myles' agents."

"Well then how am I supposed to give you my opinion's if I'm playing the part of a giggling, empty-headed lady?"  
He bit his lip, fighting a grin. "I thought it would be obvious - simply fawn over me for the durations of the talks."

"Fawn over you? Like - like _Delia_? I'm not doing that!"

He shrugged and rose. "I guess I shouldn't have asked - it'd probably be to difficult for you."

"_What?_ It would not be, and I'll prove it!" Alanna clamped her mouth shut, suddenly, realising she'd fallen for Jon's bait.

He grinned. "Of  course you can - we'll be leaving tomorrow, or that day after if you're not up to it by then. Rest up while you can, lady Shang."

***

Alanna composed her face to a calm, if pale mask, forcing her seething irritation with Jon to the back of her mind, and sipped at her champagne. Jon had explained her presence to the Tusaine as the foster-daughter of Count Graeme and Countess Nicole, her 'aunt', who had raised her after her parents died in a tragic carriage accident when she was a child.

The peace talks had, as was the custom in the eastern lands, started with a 'small' party, before tomorrow, when they would get down to the serious business of discussing terms. She had been clinging to Jon's arm like a limpet since the first guests had begun to arrive, envying Thom, who had performed a minor spell to change how others saw his face just enough that their relation was not blindingly obvious.

As the last course was cleared away, the musician's struck up, and Jon lead her out into the square space between the long tables around the sides of the hall. Leaning close to her, he whispered, "Well?"

She smiled at a passing couple, and stood on tiptoe. "Hilam's a stuck up old - well, you know what I mean, and most of his entourage don't seem overly bright. It's my guess he's the sort of man who likes to think himself intelligent, and so he surrounds himself with appropriate companions. He was very patronising before, so he likes his women as pretty ornaments to his wealth and power - nothing more. The viscount seems to be one of the few intelligent ones here, from what I can tell. He's quiet, and observant. I couldn't get much out of him on his views about the war. I'd watch out for the old lord with the black beard - Ralph, I think his name was - he's got a mean look about him, and the sort of air that unsubtle ambitious people tend to have. I'll wager his young wife didn't marry him willingly - women only wear that sort of gown for two reasons - if they're very modest, or if they have bruises not meant to be seen. From the way she's acting, I'd guess the latter."

Jon nodded, his eyes cold. "I see." He raised her hand briefly to his lips as the dance ended, and a young Tusaine noble came to talk to him - about horses, it seemed.

She walked to one side, then turned and climbed up to the dais at the head of the hall for a better view. She frowned, realising she'd lost sight of Jon.

_Thom? Thom, do you know where Jon is?_

_Huh? Oh - I saw him headed out with some noble fart a while ago towards the stables. I think they wanted to look at some horses to talk about some new trade agreement._

Alanna descended, sick anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Faithful leapt from somewhere unseen to her shoulder.

_Hurry!_ he yowled in her ear, and, as soon as they were clear of the hall, Alanna ran, sliding in her soft slippers and volumous skirts.

She rounded a corner, and freezing for a moment at the sight of Jon struggling with the young noble. Alanna rushed forward, kicking the knife out of his hands with a fierce battle yell, and using the same spin to knock him to the ground.

Jon yelled behind her and she spun to see another dark-clothed assailant slam into his back. He staggered sideways, and Alanna's heart leapt into her throat as a slim-bladed throwing knife lodged itself in his shoulder. She turned, her fist slamming into the temple of the first man, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious or dead - she didn't wait to find out. She spun again, to dispose of the second man, but somehow, despite his left arm dangling uselessly at his side, Jon had stabbed him.

Jonathan groaned and leaned back against the wall, reaching for the hilt of the dagger imbedded in his shoulder.

"No! Don't pull it out, you'll only make it worse."

He grimaced in pain but did as she told him. Alanna knelt to check the pulse of the first man, noting that he'd be unconscious for at least the next hour or so with the sort of blow she had administered. Nonetheless she tore strips out of her gown, binding the green velvet tightly around the hands and feet of both men, before returning to Jon.

"Can you walk?" she demanded.

He looked up. "Nothing's wrong with my legs - I'll manage."

"Good." She replied shortly. "We have to go."

She slung one of Jon's arms across her shoulder's, allowing him to lean on her as they went down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and into Alanna's rooms - probably the safest place for the prince right at that moment.

Locking the door, she leant against it and closed her eyes, drawing on her Gift.

_Thom?_

_Alanna? Where are you? What's wrong?_

_Tell the guards to move in and capture the Tusaine nobles._

Thom's tone was tinged with disbelief. _What? But - but what about the truce?_

_Tusaine forfeited the truth when it attacked Jon a few minutes ago._

 _They _what? _They attacked Jon?_

_Yes - the guards, Thom._

_Are you both alright?_

_I'm fine, but Jon got a dagger in his left shoulder. The guards?_ She prompted, before breaking the connection.__

Alanna looked at Jon, seated on the sofa, his face pale, and bit her lip.

"Take off your shirt."

"_What_?"

She sighed. "Take off your shirt - I'll need to see your shoulder if I'm going to treat that." she said, and went to gather her small supply of bandages and herbs, hot water, and a candle.

She seated herself next to him, and pulled out a needle and thread, heating the needle in the candle flame. Bracing herself, she reached for the small silver hilt still lodged in Jonathan's shoulder, and pulled it out, feeling decidedly sick as her friend's blood bubbled up out of it. Dipping a bandage in the herb-scented water, she washed it carefully, and threaded the needle. Jon leaned back.

"What are you doing."

She looked at him, purple gaze frank. "That's going to need sewing up."

He made a face at her. "My skin is nothing like cloth, Alanna."

"I know that - I'm a trained healer, remember?"

He grimaced and lay back, and Alanna carefully began to stitch closed the wound. He grunted a few times, but otherwise let out no sign of the considerable pain he must have been in.

Lathering an ointment over it, carefully applying her Gift as she did so, Alanna reached for bandages.

"You'll have a scar." She commented. "There's old scar tissue underneath it anyway."

Jon winced slightly. "Another relic of this war - I was shot last summer."

Alanna raised her eyebrows, but said nothing as he pulled his bloodstained shirt and tunic on.

"The Tusaine down at the party -"

"Are no longer socialising. I had Thom tell the guards to arrest them."

Jon stared at her. "How?" he demanded. 

She shrugged. "It's an aspect of our Gifts - they're linked, so we can talk to one another through them."

***

After checking that Jon was, as ordered by both herself and Duke Baird, resting, Alanna headed back down to the hall where he had been attacked. Royal guards in gold and red livery were removing the two would-be assassins, both still unconscious. Alanna felt sick as she saw a dark patch of blood pooled on the floor, and grabbed her emberstone for reassurance. An orange light surrounded both assassins, and Alanna felt worse - what did that mean?

A member of the guard looked over, and, seeing her, walked over. 

"Ye'd best go, milady -  this ain't no place for a noble lady such's yerself."

Alanna walked back down the corridor, but not to her rooms. Instead, she went to the adjoining rooms Thom and Myles shared.

***

Alanna touched the stone. Thom stood before her, now awash with a violet aura.

"The stone works like a revealing spell," she told both him and Myles. "It shows me where there is or has been magic. And there was magic around the assassins - but it wasn't their Gifts, if they had any. It was a spell."

Myles nodded. "A spell to make them try to kill Jonathan. Well then, we must determine who would want to cast such a spell."

"Tusaine?"

Myles shook his head. "What would that do? True, in the disorder they might be able to seize the valley, but King Roald would soon mount a counter-attack in revenge - it's much too blatant to be of any advantage - the blood would so obviously be on their hands that there would be no way they could absolve themselves of doubt."

"Who would want Jon dead, though - he hasn't made any powerful enemies."

Thom shook his head. "You're thinking too personally - it'd be more like who'd want the crown prince of Tortall dead, and the answer is, someone who wants the throne, and saw in this a convenient way to it."

"But then Roger would be the heir, so it can't be any minor nobles unless they were planning to kill him too -" Alanna stopped, aghast at the realisation.

_What colour was the magic?_ Thom's mental tone was sharp. 

_Orange. Why?_

_The duke has an orange Gift._

Though he could not have been aware of what they said, Myles shook his head gravely. "The duke is a powerful man - it would not be wise to make accusations without incontestable proof of his guilt."

Alanna and Thom nodded as one, knowing what he meant, but did not say.

***

Alanna smoothed her skirt nervously as the negotiations came to an end for the day. The nobles taken hostage after Jon's attempted assassination had been ransomed to Tusaine - the price, peace and the valley, as well as an amount of lands on the other side to add to the holdings of the nobles along the border.

Jon patted her arm from beneath the table. "Don't look so nervous - you're the hero here, remember?"

Alanna nodded, reassured by the touch, and looked up. 

Duke Roger looked at her from across the table, his eyes cold and hard as ice, and she repressed a shudder. Whatever it was, she vowed as she left the table, she would find out what he was up to and stop it.

_Good. _Commented Faithful from her shoulder. _He needs to be._


	17. Midsummer

**Disclaimer**

Disclaimer: Not mine, never was.

Chapter seventeen: Midsummer 

Tat drifted into Alanna's rooms, smiling dreamily, and Alanna stifled a laugh, though not a grin, as she twirled, executing a little dance with all her usual grace and poise. 

"What happened?"

Tat waved her left hand at her, palm inwards. "Raoul proposed!"  
Alanna felt her grin fade a little, then forced herself to resume it. "That's fantastic!" she exclaimed, hoping all of what she felt didn't seep into her voice. She was excited for Tat of course, and she had suspected something of the sort ever since Raoul had sought her out, somewhat nervously, to ask her opinion on what she thought Tat thought _exactly_ about him shortly after Beltaine, but still...

Tat frowned. "You haven't asked if I said yes."

Alanna smiled wryly. "I didn't need to - it's obvious that you would've."

Tat made a face, and came to sit down next to her. "I suppose I have been spending an awful lot of time with him lately - sorry about that. But there's no need to look so woebegone - the wedding won't be for a while yet, since it'll take time to organise and even then I'll be spending most of my time at court. Thing's aren't going to change - much." she added when Alanna lifted an eyebrow.

"Things _are_ changing, though - you're getting married, in a year and a half Thom'll be going through his ordeal and then right after that marrying Rhiannon - you know how impatient the baron is for them to be married, and I haven't got that much longer 'til my own ordeal, though Liam won't tell me when - he keeps saying he'll tell me when I'm ready - " she made a face.

Tat pushed out her bottom lip. "But this is what we've waited for since our convent days - not the whole my getting married thing, of course, but six and a half years ago you would've given anything for this."

Alanna sighed. "I know - and that's why I'm so confused. I should be happy all this is happening but it's all just going so fast and this just brought it home to me - and I'm going to miss you terribly with no-one to make jokes when Liam's being horrible or Thom's being obnoxious and after that when he and Rhia go back to Trebond, and fix it up after all that father did, or rather _didn't_ do."

"And then when you get married -"

Alanna's head jerked up. "I'm not _getting _married, Tat, you know that. Even if I had _any_ plans for my life which included it, who'd _want_ to - look at me!"

_I am looking at you, _Tat thought, though she did not say. _And what I see is something a certain prince is very interested in, though you don't know it._

"I don't know about that," she said. "I happen to know of some who wouldn't mind."

Alanna snorted. "Yeah, sure Tat - _who_?" That last word imbued with sarcasm.

Tat smirked. "Not saying - you'll have to find out for yourself."

Alanna opened her mouth, and Tat hurriedly continued. "Getting back to what I originally wanted to ask, I was wondering if, despite your protest to being part of such a ceremony, you would be one of my bridesmaids - the other being Rhia, of course. I need you two to stop me from bolting at the last minute - or help me do so."

Alanna smiled. "Of course."

"So, naturally, you'll be coming with me in two days time with mother and Baroness Deirdre to look at dress designs for all of us."

Alanna groaned, and Tat laughed. "How did I know you were going to do that?" she teased.

Alanna rolled her eyes. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"No - but if it'll make you feel better I won't make you stay too long for the tea afterwards - my mother-in-law-to-be's idea, not mine." 

Tat held up her hands in protest, but too late as a pillow came flying at her.

***

"Care to dance?"

Alanna answered without looking up. "You know how I feel on the subject of dancing, Jonathan."

"Do a friend a favour - the princess mother's trying to hook me up with has heavy feet and isn't nearly as good as you are."

Now Alanna did look up. "Your mother's not stupid, Jon, she knows we're only friends."

_Something I intend to change._ Jon thought. "Please, lady Alanna will you honour me with this next dance in order to save me from the lead-like toes of Princess Elisabeth?"

Alanna looked over at the aforementioned princess, whose loose gown did not quite conceal the undeniable plumpness of her figure, and, from the looks of the many be-jewelled rings on her pudgy fingers, was one of those pompous creatures Alanna so dreaded at court. She looked back at Jon. "If it will save your highness's tender feet, I suppose it must be my duty as a loyal subject."

Jon grinned. "Thank you, thank you, _thank_ you Alanna."

She grinned. "Surely it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Oh but it was." he whispered, leaning down so his mouth was near her ear, and Alanna shivered as his breath stirred the loose curls there. _Stop that._ She told herself firmly. _He's my friend, and my brother's best friend. I have no right or want to think that about him - or about anyone!_

The dance ended, and Jon pulled her out onto the balcony, still holding her hand as he walked over to the railings they used to get up to the section of roof that had become a refuge for them both when the endless court balls and parties became unbearable.

He hoisted himself up, then turned, helping Alanna up, hooking his hands under her arms to do so. Settling down on the roof beside him, Alanna carefully chose a spot not too close to him, and closed her eyes, concentrating on the wind on her face.

"It's beautiful out here tonight." Jon commented, and Alanna jumped. _Damn,_ she thought. _I just jumped at a perfectly innocent comment. What am I thinking tonight?_

"It is," she said, and if there was a slight tremor in her voice, Jon either didn't notice or ignored it. 

"How - how is that wound of yours holding up?" She asked, desperately searching for something to say that didn't involve the uncomfortably moonlit night, then regretted it the moment she said it.

"It's all but healed. Duke Baird was most impressed with your work, it seems."

"I see." She looked up, and saw that Jon was staring at her. "We should go back inside - someone's bound to miss us soon."

"Wait a little longer."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I - I'm cold."

He raised an eyebrow. "Alanna, it's midsummer's eve. Even you can't complain about it being cold."

"Well I am, and I really do think we should go inside."

"Alanna." Reaching out, he grabbed her arm. "I -"

"What?" she demanded, staring him full in the face. 

He looked up at her, seeming both very young and so much older than her at the same time. "I -" he gave an impatient sigh, and reached out, touching her cheek. Alanna froze, sitting stock still on the roof, still warm from the day's sun, as his finger gently traced eyebrow, cheek, nose, stopping at her mouth, as he leaned forward and kissed her, fingers sliding down to grip her chin gently.

Alanna stiffened, feeling the impact throughout her body. Coming to her senses, she pulled away, and slapped him, hard.

"How dare you?" She demanded, her voice a furious whisper. "How _dare_ you do that to me? You're _supposed_ to be my friend! No, wait, I suppose that was all just an act to achieve this. How dare you treat me as though - as though I was one of _them_!" She cried, still managing, somehow, to make the cry a whisper as she waved towards the chattering beauties in the ballroom.

"Lanna -"

"_Don't_ call me that!" she snapped, wrenching her arm free, and sliding down the rooftop to the point where she could hang on the stone guttering, and drop onto the balcony, heedless of her fine silk gown.

She made it to her rooms - barely - before bursting into tears, sliding down against the door. 

"Alanna?" Shannyn hurried over, disturbed by this uncharacteristic show of what Alanna deemed a weakness from her mistress. "Alanna, what's wrong? Milady?"

"Oh Shannyn - I - I -"

"What happened?" she asked, gripping a shoulder comfortingly.

"I - nothing. I just lost a friend I never really had, that's all. Oh Shan I'm so confused - I -"

"You need to rest." Shannyn said decisively, helping her up and over to her bed, where she wiped Alanna's face clean of tears, rouge, and shadow, removed earrings and necklace, and pulled her out of her gown, unlaced with deft efficiency and helping her into a nightdress all in one fluid movement.

Alanna turned her face away from Shannyn, letting the girl think she slept, and felt the tears roll silently down her cheek.

***

Thankfully, Liam kept her at her lessons - and those of the pages and squires for most of the next day, and she could justifiably plead tiredness and eat in her rooms, rather than facing the crowd in the great hall and the ball afterwards - and the prince - she stubbornly refused to think of him as Jon.

The next day, as Tat reminded her when she turned up in Alanna's rooms early the next morning in an unusually formal dress, along with Rhiannon, saying that her mother and mother-in-law to be were in 'the garden' - meaning the Ladies Garden, a section of the palace grounds which had been set aside specifically for the use of the court ladies and the queen in the early days of Tortall.

"What's the rush?" Alanna asked curiously as they made their way down to the gardens.

Tat made a face. "I don't mind, although it's not me that's making it so. Baron Stephan is pressing for a quick marriage because Raoul's younger sister, Natalie, is too young to be considered for any sort of marriage arrangement, as she's only seven, and is rather sickly as I understand it, and since she's the only other heir should Raoul die, Goddess forbid, and seems to have had a number of near-death sickness's already, poor thing. Raoul's told his father in no uncertain terms that he's not marrying me as some sort breeding mare, but nonetheless -"

She lifted her hands helplessly in a sort of shrug, and Rhia laughed.

"What?" Tat demanded crossly.

Rhiannon snorted. "Eleven hands high at the shoulder, young, purebred bloodlines and healthy coat -"

Alanna laughed as well. "Trust you to think of that!"

Rhiannon grinned. "What can I say - it's in the family for me to think that way."

Tat rolled her eyes heavenward as her friends continued to laugh, then stopped abruptly, hitting both in the stomach, hard.

Alanna gaped. "What was that for?" She demanded, then pursed her lips as she followed Tat's nod to where a pale, dignified lady who resembled an older Tat, and a smaller woman with brown curls sat, sipping at delicate china teacups.

Tat approached, Alanna and Rhia trailing behind her, and executed a small, perfect curtsy. "Mother, Baroness Deirdre. "

"Hello my dear," the lady of Eagle's Reach replied warmly, and Alanna realised that Tat was very like her mother in more than just looks.

The other woman smiled also, though coolly. "Hello Tatiana my dear. These are your friends, I presume?"

Alanna blinked. She wasn't expecting _this! _A stickler for the rules, it seemed - _Raoul must get his personality from his father - he certainly wouldn't be the way he is if he took after her, I'll wager._

She curtsied, summoning up all the petal-like delicacy people seemed to expect from a lady of her size. "A pleasure to meet you, Baroness." She murmured, keeping her eyes downcast. _I feel like a Bazhir woman_. "I am Alanna of Trebond."

The baroness looked her over coolly. "The pleasure is all mine, lady Alanna." She replied dryly, with the slightest emphasis on the 'lady.'

"Your reputation precedes you." Tat murmured as she turned towards them to introduce Rhiannon.

The baroness looked them over. "Sit, please." She turned, gesturing to a woman a few years younger than herself. "Tea?" She inquired.

Tat accepted, Alanna and Rhiannon following her lead - there seemed to be nothing else to do.

"I'll have Anne send for your maids."

Alanna looked up at her curiously, and Tat leaned over to whisper, "She's of the sort that takes her maid everywhere."

Alanna nodded, and glanced up to see Shannyn arrive, Faithful in her arms, along with Elena and Irene - Tat and Rhiannon's maids, whom she had met occasionally at the convent.

Faithful jumped down onto her lap, and she gathered him up as the baroness rose stiffly, and made her way towards the stables.

***

Stefan's face lit up as they arrived outside. "Me ladies - it's a pleasure t' see ye all agin - shall I get out yer horses?"

Alanna opened her mouth to tell him to, but Baroness Deirdre got in first. 

"We will be taking the Goldenlake carriage."

Alanna pouted, seething slightly at her manner - and she still had the rest of the day to deal with the woman!

Forcing herself to keep a semblance of calm, she climbed into the carriage, wishing for Luna.

***

"And then we shall need some beading and embroidery on the bodices and skirts - complementary to whatever colour the gowns shall be of course - I think perhaps pearls and moonstones on yours, perhaps, Tatiana?"

Tat smiled tightly at her future mother in law. "Lovely - the colour should be ivory, I think."

"I don't know - cream would be suitable, don't you think?"

Lady Elaine shook her head empathetically. "Not on Tat - my sister, may the black god rest her soul, wore cream on her wedding day and it looked terrible. I'm afraid we just don't have the colouring for it - although you yourself looked lovely in at your wedding, if I remember correctly. A beautiful ceremony, I thought."

Tat made a face at Alanna over their heads, raising her hands to sign to her. _Mother doesn't like the baroness very much - I think she had a little tiff with her when they were our age over my father._

Alanna grinned - Tat was irrepressible.

"I think a pale blue-violet, or perhaps lavender for the bridesmaids dresses, don't you, mother." Tat interrupted pacifically.

Rhiannon joined in. "Yes, that would be nice - perhaps a violet gown underneath with a blue chiffon over the top - the colours would meld together nicely, and it would suit a summer wedding. Don't you think so, Alanna?"

"Um - " Alanna paused, trying to remember where the conversation had gone. "Yes, it - would. Absolutely lovely, I agree completely."

"And then the young men could wear blue..."

Alanna allowed her mind to wander again; through she carefully kept it away from the topic of Prince Jonathan.

At length the discussions ended, and they moved to the library of the townhouse Raoul's family owned, for the tea, and somehow - she wasn't sure _just_ how exactly, but she did it, Alanna managed - barely - to make it through the last half hour before they left to go back to the palace for the customary evening festivities.

***

"Lady Alanna?"

Alanna stubbornly refused to look in the direction the voice came from. "Please go away, you Highness."

"You're _still_ angry with me?"

"Yes. Excuse me, your Highness." They were standing on the railed landing that ran around the walls of the ballroom, and Alanna picked up her skirts, making her way carefully down one of the spiral staircases that were doted all around the landing. As it happened, she ended up near the long, narrow table that held various drinks. There were squires circulating with jugs of the wines, but the tables were there anyway.

"What wine were you having, lady Alanna?" She looked up straight into a pair of pale sapphire eyes resembling the Prince's.

She looked down at the table, picking up a goblet at random. "The white. And you, your Grace?"

"I prefer the red myself." He said smoothly, making his way around the table to stand beside her. "Are you dancing tonight - I understand you're rather good, though I've never had the pleasure of dancing with you."

"I'm - feeling rather tired tonight, actually."

"Really? That's a pity, I did want to dance with you."

Involuntarily, she glanced up a Jonathan, where he still stood, leaning on the railing, looking down at them. "Well," she said, managing a fairly convincing smile at the Duke. "I'm sure I could manage _one_."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'd be delighted."

He smiled. "Excellent. Shall we?" He said, taking her goblet and placing it on a nearby table, then guiding her onto the dance floor.

The dance was a waltz, so Alanna had no excuse not to talk. "I couldn't help but notice you were being rather - cool, with my cousin before. I was under the impression that you were friends." His tone was gently querying, but Alanna stiffened nonetheless.

"Then you must have been misinformed, your Grace."

"I see. It has been most pleasant talking to you tonight. I am afraid I must go but I would enjoy talking to you again - perhaps I might meet you tomorrow for a little chat?"

Alanna's eyes widened. _What's he playing at?_

"Of - of course you could. May I enquire where?"

"I thought the gardens, shortly after the lunch hour - I understand you have classes with the Dragon until then, although my own do not start until the afternoon. Unless you're busy then?"

She made herself smile again, despite the sick feeling in the back of her throat. "No, that's excellent - the rose gardens?"

"Very well. Forgive me -" he said, bowing. "But I must go now, I'm afraid. Till tomorrow then." He kissed her hand lightly, making her skin crawl, and she forced herself to resist shuddering and pulling her hand away.

***

Alanna dressed carefully the next morning - a pale green and gold gown, light silk, appropriate for high summer. As she was putting the last touches in place, she glanced down at Faithful, and he jumped into her arms. _Better take me. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into here. _

_I know - I have to do this, Faithful._

The Duke was waiting for her when she arrived, smiling at her. "Lady Alanna - you're looking well."

"As are you, your Grace."

"Please - Duke Roger will do fine. 'Your Grace,' is too formal for me."

She nodded politely, stroking Faithful, and looked down at the roses.

"I - have a proposition for you, lady Alanna. Are you interested?"

She looked up at him, giving at diffident shrug. "I'd have to hear more first - what does this proposition involve?"

"I think you'll be most interested in it. Despite what you said last night, I do get the feeling that until very recently, you and my cousin _were_ friends, until something happened - something that was his fault, I'll wager, judging from the way you've been acting. Now, I have something of a - plan, that, were you to be involved would give the chance for revenge, should you wish it, and power. You are the apprentice of the Shang Dragon, but because of your sex, and the fact that you are noble, people are wary of you, since you seem to be breaking class rules. They do not see that a king who had you by his side as one of his inner circle would wield considerable power - the only Gifted Shang in existence and the only one in known history that was _not_ cast out of their noble family. I could offer you the power to be that - perhaps as you dreamed when you were younger. Did you want to become a knight, lady Alanna?"

She jumped. _How could he know that?_

_He's guessing - play along._ Commented Faithful from her arms.

"When I was a child, a knight was the closest means of becoming a warrior - but I am happy being a Shang apprentice."

He nodded. "I see. Would you like to hear more of my plan, lady Alanna? Of course, if you're not interested, it would be in your best interests to leave now." Something in his expression made her shudder, and she forced herself to breathe slowly.

"No - I am interested. What is the end of this plan, and my part in it?"

He smiled. "You are perceptive, my lady. Very well. The end is thus  - I intend to  - dispose of - my cousin, leaving me my uncle's heir - and king when he passes on. I would be the king I spoke of earlier to you, with you  - unfortunately, not as champion, as that post must be taken by a knight, but perhaps as an unofficial equivalent - I'll either find a title, or invent one. Your part is simple. To act as a - confidant, for my cousin, prevent him from making any untimely alliances, of any sort, and perhaps as more than that, since some alliances would be made considerably more difficult by my cousin's foolish notions of love. A simple delaying act, until my plan is carried out in full. What do you say to it, lady Alanna?"

She smiled archly. "This indeed seems to be an - interesting proposition you've laid before me, Duke Roger. And indeed, with what you've offered me, how on earth could I refuse?"

He smiled wolfishly at her. "Excellent. You know what to do then - but don't make yourself obvious. Farewell for now, lady Alanna."

"Farewell, Duke Roger."

She turned, resisting the temptation to run down the path, heading for her rooms.

***

"Jonathan."

"Alanna? What - what are you doing here? I mean - never mind that, come in - how are you?" 

 "Well. Jonathan I must talk to you - you're in terrible danger."

He frowned, gesturing for her to take a seat, and settling into one himself.

"What do you mean?"

"I - there's someone against you - against your life. I talked to them, and they offered me an alliance, as an - agent of sorts for them. I accepted, or pretended to accept, since it seems the only way I would find out more about whatever they're doing and - and to get proof against them. Don't get me wrong, I haven't forgiven you, but you're still my friend, and it is my duty to help you - you do believe me, don't you?"

His frown deepened. "Of course I do - but Alanna, I think you must tell me who this person, or these people -"

"Person."

"Very well, this person is."

She shook her head. "I cannot - this person - you would not believe me unless I had proof of what they are plotting against you. They - are a master of court disguises - you know what I mean."

He nodded. "I see. So you're going to work as - a double agent, then?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"What did they offer you - surely they made an offer that would be an advantage to you?"

She shrugged. "They knew that you'd done - something, though they didn't know what, and they offered me this as - as a way of revenge, of getting even with you, and - and when they were ruler of Tortall, a place in their inner circle, as a sort of champion."

He nodded. "And in return you have to -"

"Keep you from making 'untimely alliances,' and, I presume, act as a spy of sorts."

"I don't understand, Alanna. If this is so very dangerous as you would have me believe, why won't you tell me _who?_"

She shook her head. "I told you, you wouldn't believe me without proof. I suspected him, as does Thom and Sir Myles, but no one else does."

He sighed. "Fine - but make sure you get this proof. I want to know about this."

"Of course you do - and I'll provide it as soon as I can - you're still my friend, so, obviously, I don't want you killed."

He smiled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence - keep safe, Alanna. "

She smiled. "Don't I always?" Rising, she walked over to the door. "I'll see you tonight, I suppose."

"Yes - and naturally you'll be dancing."

She made a face at him. "Sure, Jon."

"Of course - goodbye Alanna."

"Goodbye."

Faithful jumped up on the bed as she left. _Of course, I could vouch for her, and provide a witness, but who on earth would believe a talking cat?_

Jon stared at him. "You - ahh - you _spoke?_"

_Who else? Believe her, you Highness._ He jumped down, rubbed slightly against Jon's legs, and ran lightly out of the open door.

A/N: Mush enough? Please review, ppls - and I'm sure you can all figure out who the duke in question is. REVIEW!!!!! 

Ciao,

Aranel


	18. The Wedding

**One of a Kind**

Disclaimer: Everything to do with the world of Tortall is the property of Tamora Pierce, with the exception of my writing and the characters I created.

Chapter Eighteen: The Wedding

Alanna winced as the sharp needle she was using connected with her finger, and hurriedly held it away from the ivory fabric of Tat's veil. While they were having most of the dresses made by tailors, traditionally a bride made at least part of her own dress, along with her bridesmaids, with the result that most of Alanna's free time had suddenly been taken up by the embroidery and beadwork on the bodice and skirt of Tat's gown, not to mention the same on her own, and then the delicate work of embroidering and beading the hem of Tat's veil, made of a similar material to the top layer of hers and the bridesmaids dresses - a material that just happened to be particularly difficult to work on, being so sheer.

"We're never going to get this finished in time." She declared, threading a seed pearl onto the needle, biting her lip as she carefully sewed it into place amongst the delicately curling hemline of the veil. 

"Of course we are - there are six of us working on it Alanna, if you count our maids, who you know will help the minute we ask them to."

"I meant all of it - the dresses too, not just this." 

Tat grinned. "We'd better, of the baron'll have our heads for not getting me and his son married off in time."

"Tat, we have less than a month." Alanna pointed out.

"Well, look how much we've done already." Rhiannon pointed out, not unreasonably. "How long do you honestly think it'll take them to put the dresses together once we've finished what we're doing? And if all else fails the seamstresses can make our dresses and we'll just work on Tat's."

Alanna snorted. "Fine - if you want to put it like that."

Tat waved a hand at her. "Oh, stop being so negative."

"I'll be negative if I want to be negative." Alanna snapped, and Tat looked up, gray green eyes concerned. 

"Alanna? Are you alright? What's wrong - you've been on edge all day."

Alanna rolled her eyes heavenward. "Nothing."

Faithful looked up from where he was licking a paw in the corner. _There's no one magically spying on you, or physically. You could tell them, you know._

Alanna shifted uncomfortably. Tat looked over at Faithful, having been aware for a while, as was Rhia that the cat could communicate with humans when he wished to.

"Alanna?" She asked, laying a hand gently on her friend's arm.

Alanna sighed. "You wouldn't believe me."

Tat smiled slightly. "Try us."

Alanna looked up at her. "Not so long ago, just after midsummer, Duke Roger came to me with a proposal to join him a - what's the technical term? Mutually advantageous venture, I suppose you could say."

"About?"

Alanna breathed out angrily. "He wants to kill Jon, and his parents, so he can legally become king of Tortall. He offered me a place as part of his inner circle if I were to act on his behalf with Jon."

Tat had gone even paler than usual, her cheeks completely bleached of colour, and Rhiannon's pale golden-brown riding tan looked pasty.

"And?" It was Rhia who spoke now.

"I - pretended to accept, and told Jon. Not who was behind it - he wouldn't believe anything against his cousin without proof, and this seems to be the only way to get it. Thom's suspected the duke of plotting such a thing for a long time, as does sir Myles, but the man leaves no evidence behind him whenever he does something - at least, not evidence anyone has found or could use if they did. I - don't tell anyone, please. Not even Raoul, Tat."

Tat nodded slowly. "You're playing a dangerous game Alanna - be careful, for Mithros sake. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Alanna closed her eyes very briefly, then opened them again. "The veil." She managed. "We really should get back to work."

Tat nodded, and Rhiannon picked up a needle, beginning to chatter about a new horse her sister had told her about that she planned to breed into the Gorge's already fine stock.

***

"My parents are going to come as well - they're rather good friends with the baron and baroness of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, so of course they're going to come and give their royal felicitations."

Alanna smiled. "That's nice."

Jon frowned. "You're pale. Are you feeling alright?" He asked, lifting a hand to touch her cheek.

"Yes." Alanna said, pulling away ever so slightly.

"You'll be attending the ball tonight, I trust? Not to busy helping Tatiana with the wedding preparations?"

Alanna groaned. "They do seem to keep us incredibly busy. I'd rather give the ball a miss, but since that doesn't seem to be allowed, I'll come along quietly and put in an appearance and retire as early as I possibly can."

"You won't stay and keep me company? I'm crushed." Jon joked lightly. "How's your little self-imposed assignment going?" He asked more seriously.

"I'm being a good girl and doing what I'm supposed to, but so far I don't have any damning proof, other than what I've told you."

"Which is damning enough, if you'd only tell me who this person is."

She sighed. "I told you Jon, I can't. You'd never believe me without some tangible proof, or something you'd seen and heard with your own eyes and ears, and in a court, this person would have much more standing than me - I mean, honestly Jon, I'm a Gifted noble lady who's a Shang apprentice and a complete contradiction to everything everyone expects."

"Whoever said that was a bad thing?" Jon demanded. "I've lived at court my entire life and I've never seen it as lively as when you came here."

Alanna smiled a little sadly. "I'm only saying a lot of people don't trust me as a matter of course."

"_I_ trust you. So does your brother, and Tat and Rhia, not to mention Gary and Raoul -"

"None of the people you've just named are experienced hands at court intrigues, or people who have much interest in them. What chance would I have of convincing the cynics?'

"All you have to do is convince father."

Alanna raised an eyebrow. "All? Since when has convincing his majesty been a matter of as simple you could say that about it? No, I'll get you both your proof, Jon, I swear it. Just please - be patient."

They rounded a corner, coming into full view of the few nobles scattered around the gardens, and Alanna stiffened. She didn't know who else duke Roger had on his side, other than that there _were_ others, who he told her she would meet eventually, and virtually anyone could be one - with a few notable exceptions, like the queen's brother and Sir Myles, but mostly she just wouldn't know.

"Be careful," she murmured quietly. "I don't the others our friend has working for him, so don't do anything that would seem out of place with what I'm supposed to be doing."

Jon nodded. "I see."

A high-pitched calling reached their ears. "Jonathan? Jonathan!"

Jon turned, catching sight of his mother, surrounded, as always by her ladies, calling from a table nearby. "I'd better go." He murmured, reaching down to kiss her lightly on the cheek, and striding away. Alanna watched him go, raising a hand to her cheek, and feeling absurdedly like bursting into tears.

***

Alanna reached for her boots, pulling them on as she bolted out the door, to where the procession headed for Malorie's Peak was being packed by servants and hostlers. She caught sight of Luna, amongst many other horses, and pulled her away from the crowd, grinning with joy as she mounted, glad of the chance to get away from the city and the crowds. Luna stirred under her, as if sensing her thoughts that soon there would be space to gallop freely, with fresh air and clean water and grass.

A bazhir hostler came over, ducking his head to check Luna's bridle, then looking her full in the face. Alanna gasped. "George!" She said, remembering at the last moment to keep her voice low. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned. "I wanted to check on yer ladyship before ye and ye brother and all the rest left. I congratulated the 'appy couple just then an' gave them their weddin' present. Listen," he said, his smile disappearing. "From what yer brother's tol' me, I know what the young duke is up to, and what ye're doin'. Be careful lass. He's as poisonous as a Cathaki snake, and just as treacherous, too."

She nodded. "I know. Thanks for the concern George - I will be careful." 

"See ye are." He replied, and Alanna looked away, startled and worried by what she saw in his eyes.

"Lady Alanna?" It was Raoul. "Aren't you going in the carriage with Tat and lady Rhiannon?"

She made a face, shaking her head. "I don't think so - I do believe I'll volunteer for the position of scout."

He gaped at her. "Scout? Are you serious?"

She nodded. "Oh yes. I don't really want to be cooped up in a carriage for the next few days - how far is it to Malorie's Peak from here?" 

He looked sideways at her. "Around three days. Sure you're up for it? Some of that's mountain area." 

She heard a snort behind her and turned to see Thom there, astride Mage. "Raoul, we were _born_ in mountain country. I'm sure my little sister can manage."

She raised a copper eyebrow at him. "You're riding?"

He shrugged. "Apparently so, according to my knight master. Myles decided he couldn't miss the wedding of the student who livened up his class so much for eight years."

Raoul grimaced. "He's not going to mention that, is he?"

Alanna laughed at his expression. "Ah, wedding speeches. So terrifying for the happy couple."

Raoul muttered something, striding away.  "Oh, and Raoul, don't forget - I'm scouting." she called after him.

"You're scouting?"

"She's insane.'' Thom said.

Jon grinned. "I know. What about you, Thom?''

"I think I'll give it a miss, somehow.''

"Your loss." Alanna teased, grinning.

"I'm so sad.''

Riding over to the pile of packs assembled for those scouting, Alanna grabbed one, flipping open her saddle bags to accommodate it, and pulling out a thick, warm, relatively waterproof hooded robe to wrap around herself, the lack of fastenings - if you were about to run a person through with a sword, it was better not to have to worry about buttons - allowing it to flap open in the wind over her long tunic and breaches.

Faithful jumped down, settling himself across Luna's neck above the saddle, licking a paw contentedly.

Alanna looked up. "Let's go."

***

Alanna hadn't bothered putting on her bow and quiver while they were still in sight of Corus. Now, as they stopped for a short 'lunch, sending off scouts and fixing everything that needed fixing stop,' she unbuckled the wrapped bundle from behind her saddle, re-rolling her blanket and slinging her quiver, with her bow clipped to it, over her shoulder.

"Ready?" Jon asked, riding up beside her. 

She raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "The scouts are supposed to be either gifted or familiar to the area, so I volunteered to be one. The others are Cole and Fredric - you know them, I think. It shouldn't be too much trouble to contact them, but here."

She looked down at the tiny bundle he held out. "What is it?"

"Tokens. From all of us, so you can focus if need be. D'you have any?"

"Uh - just a moment." She burrowed down into the limited possessions she kept in her saddlebags. "Here.'' she announced, re-emerging. "Throwing stars. I'd prefer to keep them, but I don't have anything else small on me that you could use as a focus.''

Jon nodded. "I give them these. And Alanna." He turned back to her. "Be careful."

"I'm always careful."

Jon snorted. "Of course you are."

***

Alanna swung lightly down in Luna's saddle, holding her strung bow and the arrow she held to it aside as she passed under the low-slung branch. Coming up again, she swung her bow up in the direction of a snapping twig. 

Darkness stepped lightly into the small clearing, and Alanna dropped her bow, replacing the arrow in her quiver as Jon held his hands up.

"You shouldn't surprise a person like that. I could've killed you!"

He grinned. "No you wouldn't have - you're too well trained to slip up like that."

Alanna scowled. "What are you doing here?"  
"In case you weren't told, it's not a good idea to sleep on your own when you're a scout."

"I'm not alone - I've got Luna and Faithful."

He nodded. "I know that - but you might someone who can use a sword around as well - apart from yourself of course."

Alanna scowled at that, but made no comment. "How'd you find me? I like to think my woods-man ship is better than that."

He grinned. "I cheated. I used your token. Happy?"

"Yes – we should set up camp soon." 

"I'm cooking."

She glared at him. "What'd my brother say about my cooking skills? I'll have you know they've improved a lot since I was ten."

"He didn't tell me anything. I had the misfortune of tasting something you made when we were at Drell. If it's improved since then, I shudder to think what Thom must've put up with …" He trailed off as Alanna leaned over in Luna's saddle and swatted at his ear.  "Ouch, woman, be gentle." Alanna poked her tongue out. It was a juvenile gesture, but it made her feel better. 

They came to a clearing, and Alanna swung down. "Well, this looks as good as anywhere."

He nodded. "It'll do – though we'd better sleep under that tree over there – mountains get a fair amount of rain at this time of year." 

Alanna hit him again.

"What was that for?" He demanded, rubbing his now pink ear.

She gave him a haughty look. "I was born and raised in the mountains, you flat landed, seashore-city living idiot."

"Oh." He said meekly, following her to the tree, where she quickly unrolled her blanket, then yanked out the grass between that and the other side of the tree's shelter, piling it in the middle of the bare circle for tinder. 

 She strode away, bow slung across her back. "I'm going hunting."

Jon rolled his eyes. "Don't be long – I'll set up some protection spells."

He looked over at Luna, who had moved closer to Darkness, and evidently did not share her mistress's distain for his – or his horse's – suit. "Alright then." He sighed, leading Darkness to one side of the clearing, and staking down his lead with enough length that he could graze, but not enough that he could get to Luna, on the other side.  _That's all I need, _he thought.  _I can just imagine Alanna's reaction if Luna had a foal – especially by Darkness!_

He'd gotten a fire burning under the tree by the time Alanna returned, a hare pinned on the arrow in her hand. She sat, pulling the arrow out matter-of-factly, and proceeded to skin it. If she held any distaste for the admittedly gruesome, if necessary, task, she didn't show it, and Jon shook his head, continually bewildered that she could be both a seemingly delicate court lady and a soldier and warrior at the same time.

She finished skinning and gutting the animal as Jon hunted out the supplies of herbs and added them to the boiling water slung over the fire, and moved across to help Alanna cut up the meat in companiable silence, tossing the bits of meat into the stew.

She broke the silence first. "Do you want first watch or shall I?"

He shrugged. "You seem to get up before dawn half the time anyway for your exercises, so it'd be easier for me to take first." She nodded, and leaned forward to poke a stick into the fire.

"So."

"So –" Alanna bit her lip, uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was uncomfortably aware of her proximity to Jon.

"You're very quiet tonight."

She shrugged. "I'm tired."

"The great, invincible shang lady is tired?" He teased gently.

"I never said I was invincible."

"You implied it."

"You said it. Remember that, my lord prince. If people call me invincible, you said it first."

He grimaced. "Like you'd let me forget it."

"Only when it suits me." She yawned, suddenly tired in actuality. "I think I might go to bed – ah, camp roll, thin, small, and uncomfortable as it is."

"Eat first."

She shook her head, and Jon ladled out a bowl of the stew, waving it enticingly under her nose. "Didn't the Dragon ever teach you skipping meals while you're scouting is a bad thing?"

She took it. "Fine."

He tapped her nose. "You might be _almost_ invincible, Lanna, but you're still only human."

"Isn't your ear sore enough yet?"

Taking the hint, Jon moved away, fetching himself a cloth to polish his sword.

Wearily, Alanna got up, flopping down again once she reached her so-called 'bed.'

***

"Alanna, get up." She rubbed a hand over her eyes. 

"Wha-at?"

Jon punched her shoulder lightly. "Your watch."

Grumbling, she got up, grabbing sword and bow from where they lay beside her, making her way to a place where she commanded a clear view of everything around them, as well as the heat from the fire.

Moodily she stared into the flames dancing over the embers, rubbing the ember around her neck, remembering when she had received it – her first encounter with the Goddess.

"Hello Alanna."

She spun, hand going to her sword hilt instinctively, then dropped to her knees as she recognized the Goddess.

"My Mother." She managed. "Again you visit me."

The Goddess smiled slightly. "As always, my daughter, you wish to get straight to the heart of the matter.

Your are wondering why I am here."

So much for phrasing it more eloquently. "Yes, my Mother, I am."

"Very well. My daughter, you have laid upon yourself a dangerous burden, in choosing to protect your prince in the way you have – though perhaps your feelings lead you to see it another way. The time will come soon for you to expose the duke, and you must take the opportunity – you will find out just how urgent this is soon enough."

Alanna nodded. "I see."

The Goddess touched her head gently. "Be careful, my daughter. Go with my blessing."

The air around her shimmered briefly, and she was gone.

Alanna looked across at where Jon slept on, straight into Faithful's eyes.  "What did she mean by half of that, Faithful?"

He licked a paw. _Part of your test is to find that out yourself._

"I guess that means you're _not_ going to tell me."

_What sort of guardian would I be if I made life _too_ easy for you?_

Alanna snorted, and returned to her watch.

***

"Your Highness!"

The fire crackled urgently in the pre-dawn light, and Alanna hurriedly tossed a branch onto it. The fire soared into life, burning wood brown. 

"Who's that?" She demanded.

"Sir Cole – where is his Highness?"

"Sleeping. What in Mithros name happened to make you call for him at this ungodly hour of the morning?"

"I was given a message to pass onto him as soon as I could. Her Majesty – the queen has had a fall, and been seriously hurt. The king requests that his Highness return to the main camp as soon as possible."

She nodded, forgetting that the spell Sir Cole had cast did not cover vision. "I'll see to it."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Jon – Jon. Jon for Mithros sake _wake up! _"

"Alanna? What's happened?"

"Honestly," she snapped, temper getting the better of her. "You call yourself a knight? What if we were attacked and you just lay there _sleeping_?"

He looked around. "Well, obviously we haven't been. Why did you wake me?"

"Your mother's been hurt. His Majesty requests you join them at the main camp."

Jon was on his feet in an instant, the blood drained from his face. "What?" He demanded. "What happened?"

Alanna swallowed. "She fell."

Jon nodded, and swiftly began to pack his belongings. "Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me back to camp. Please, Alanna." He looked up at her, for a second seeming five years old. 

"I have to scout."

"The others are scouting. I'm sure they can manage while no one that we're supposed to be guarding is moving anywhere. Please."

She sighed. "Alright – I suppose I'm honour bound to come in any case and stop you blundering into something while you're in this state."

He smiled wanly. "Thank you."

She shrugged. "What are friends for but to keep you from knocking your head off on a branch or some such?"

***

The queen was in worse condition than Cole had given away, pale as death and utterly unmoving. 

"What happened?" Alanna demanded as Jon took his mother's hand.

One of Queen Lianne's ladies stepped forward, a shy, plump girl who hadn't married yet, for all her twenty-four years. "Her Majesty wished to go walking. The ground had seemed stable enough earlier, but it gave way under her feet and she hit her head against a boulder."

Alanna nodded, and looked up. The duke watched her from a shadowy corner of the tent, unseen by all but her, and Alanna swallowed as he gave a slow, deliberate wink.

_The time will come soon enough_, the Goddess had said, in her midnight visit two nights ago. 

***

The King and Jonathan had returned to Corus with the queen, where Duke Baird had chosen to remain, congratulating the happy couple beforehand, and the places where they would have sat beside the lady and lord of Eagles Reach, and the baron and his wife were conspicuous reminders of the accident that had befallen the well-liked queen.

Alanna hugged Tat tightly, heedless of the fine beading and embroidery of both their gowns. "Don't let it spoil your day."

Tat smiled, and though she was much paler than usual, Alanna didn't know if it was concern for the Queen and the rumours that had begun, or simply nerves. She hoped it was nerves. "I won't."

Rhia smiled at her wordlessly, and picked up the delicate diamond tiara – mined and shaped by the workmen of the famous diamond mines Tat's family controlled – and veil, packed in tissue for safekeeping.

Alanna took the tiara from her, and carefully placed it in Tat's hair, holding pins in her mouth to keep it in place. When she was done, Rhiannon pinned her veil in place, both of them straightening it, before stepping back to admire their handiwork.

Alanna sighed, turning to Rhia. "I can't believe it. Our little baby's all grown up."

"I know," she replied, wiping a mock-tear from her eye. "Time just goes so quickly, doesn't it?"

Tat threw a nearby pillow at them. "I'm older than you both, you twits."

Alanna grinned, and began to laugh. "Well, since your mother's off dealing with the formidable baroness, naturally we had to make that speech in her absence. You look beautiful, by the way."

"As always." Came a voice from the back of the room, and Alanna spun to see the Lord of Eagles Reach standing behind them. 

"Papa." Tat reached forward, hugging him. He returned it, then held her at arm's length.

"Ready?"

Tat looked down, surveying herself. "I think so."

"Wait." Alanna picked up the delicate bunch of mountain flowers, handing it to her. "Can't go without your bouquet."

"Well," She said then. "I suppose we'd best get going. No sense in keeping your guests waiting.

***

The ceremony, as were most ceremonies involving nobles and legal terms, was long and uninteresting, but uneventful.

What was more interesting for all was the feast and the dancing afterwards. At some point Tat and Raoul slipped away, no doubt using one of the more energetic dances as cover.

"They probably wished to avoid the bedding revels." Gary had said when she mentioned it. She had replied that she didn't blame them – they were enough to put anyone off marriage. The revels, a fairly old tradition whose significance had decreased since they were invented, would nonetheless eventually be mentioned by some drunken young noble, and the entire mob would proceed to dump bride and groom on the high table and carry them to their chambers, where the bridesmaids and groomsmen would then proceed to put them to bed and usually disappear as inconspicuously as possible – depending on the amount of wine consumed that night.

***

Alanna was packed and ready to leave early the next morning, not having drunk enough to have the sort of hangover that required lying in bed groaning the entire day – in any case, she had learned to ignore insignificant aches and pains as part of her training.

Tat looked upset when Alanna announced she was leaving so soon. "Must you go?"

" Yes – I have to see how the queen's doing."

"And comfort Jon." Tat had murmured.

Alanna purposely misunderstood. "Of course I have to comfort my friend in his hour of need."

Tat had raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Alanna blushed and slapped at her friend's arm. "Get back to bed. It's not normal for a bride to be out of bed so early the day after her wedding."

Now it was Tat's turn to blush. "You will visit, won't you?"

"Of course – I'll have to be there for the birth of two of my very good friends little ones –"

Tat groaned. "Not you too. I swear, if I hear one more person make some not-so-subtle reference to an heir, I'm going to –"

Alanna grinned. "You're going to what? Stop bedding your husband to spite them?"

Tat grimaced. "Where _did _you learn such inappropriate language, Alanna?"

She grinned. "I get around a lot, remember. I'll see you soon, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

She mounted Luna, riding away at a walk until she was out of Tat's sight, and then kicked her mount into a gallop, leaning forward, bound home.


	19. Treachery

One of a Kind 

Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.

Chapter Nineteen: Treachery

The lady of Trebond's horse was well known by all the palace guards, fortunately, since she didn't seem to be in the mood for stopping and conversing when she cantered through the gates that night; indeed, she barely stopped for a kind word to the young hostler's lad who took her horse.

She didn't bother with stopping at her own chambers, or at her brother's, heading straight for the Royal Apartments.

She gave a cursory knock, and was answered by a frightened looking servant girl, whose eyes widened still further at the sight of her. 

"Is his Highness here?"

She nodded, giving a barely perceptible, "Yes'm." 

"Let me in."

The girl hesitated, and Alanna sighed in annoyance.

"Let me in, _please._"

A voice called from within the chambers. "Send them away, Miriam."

"Jon?" she called, ignoring the girl as she pushed open the door. "Jonathan?"

The room was dark, only the embers from the fire casting any light over the two men seated in front of it, several bottles of the sort that held strong alcohol on the table between them.

One got to his feet, somewhat unsteadily. "Alanna?"

"Are you alright, Jon?"

He sank down again, and Alanna came close enough to see that the other man was none other than King Roald of Tortall, snoring as he sprawled in the heavy brocade chair, the wetness of tears on his cheeks and the stink of wine and spirits on his breath.

"She – Alanna she just –" He buried his face in his hands, and Alanna placed a consolatory hand on his shoulder. She looked up, and saw the sickly gleam of a few candles coming though a partially closed door.

***

Queen Lianne looked surprisingly peaceful and unharmed in the candlelight, for one who had died of a head injury. Her black hair had been washed and artfully arranged to disguise the injury and the traces of blood that remained.

Sinking to a knee, as protocol demanded, she bit her lip, forcing back the tears that threatened.

_It's my fault. _ She thought. _ I could have gotten something – anything! – to prove to Jon and his father that Roger was dangerous. And now the queen's dead, and no one but he and I know he as good as killed her with his own hands. Jon'll never forgive me for this._

Rising, she walked out of the room, and took Jon by the hand, leading him to the door. As they passed the servant girl who had first opened the door to her, Alanna spoke. "Arrange for temporary sleeping quarters for his Majesty – he can't stay here. I'll be back soon with some men to move him there. Ensure – ensure the queen's body is not disturbed."

Fortunately, Jon's apartments weren't far from his parents, so Alanna had no trouble supporting him as they made their way there. Opening the door with some difficulty, Alanna led him through the sitting room; pushing aside heavy velvet drapes to dump Jon on the bed fully clothed, then pulling off his boots.

"Get some rest, Jon."

He didn't need the advice – he was already asleep.

Alanna went to the door adjoining his and Douglass's rooms.

"Douglass?"

He blinked. "Alanna. We weren't expecting you back yet. Did you want something?"

She sighed. "Come and help me shift the king, would you?"

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "Just us? I don't think that's possible."

"I'm stronger than I look."

"I know you are – I've taken lessons from you, haven't I? We should get Gary."

She shrugged. "Whatever suits you."

Fifteen minutes later, they had gotten Gary, and where figuring out the best way to move the admittedly portly king without waking him.

"Not that it'd be hard." Gary commented. "If he's drunk, once uncle's asleep he'll stay asleep, come famine, war, or some blasted immortal from a child's story."

Alanna frowned. "How about this – Douglass, you take his head, I'll take his feet, and Gary can hold him up in the middle, since he's the strongest."

The two men made general gestures of assent, and Alanna walked to the end of the couch, bending to heave her monarch's dirty boots onto her shoulder. Douglass reached for his head, and, as they lifted him off the couch, Gary ducked down to ease the burden.

"Which way?" Gary asked.

"Not far, I hope?" Douglass added.

They dumped the king on the bed which, as it so happened, was in the apartments just down the hall – some soft pink affair that looked as though it had belonged to some princess who was eternally ten years old, Alanna had commented, and Gary had pointed out that Princess Alexandria, who had been the last inhabitant of the rooms, had been betrothed to a Carthaki emperor at ten and had died at just eleven, a few months before she was to go and live in Carthak, from falling though thin ice that had cracked beneath the sled carrying her, the current sweeping her away under the ice.

Alanna made a face. "What possessed you to think that I wanted to know that?"

He shrugged. "I just thought you might, considering your comment."

"Well, I didn't."

He shrugged. 

"I'm going to bed."

***

Despite her protests, Alanna had left Shannyn at Malorie's Peak to come back with the carriage and her luggage – she had packed for a rather longer stay, after all. So, waking up the next morning, she discovered that she had neither maid, nor very many dresses.  

Dragging on a pale lavender gown – the only dress she had in mourning colours, she hunted through her dresser for a brush. Finally coming up with a small ivory comb, she shrugged and began to pull it through her hair.

The door opened.

"Hello Thom."

Her twin blinked in surprise. "How'd you know it was me?"

She shrugged, not turning round. "The only people I know who'd just walk straight in without knocking are you, Rhia, Tat, or Shannyn, and you're the only one here."

He came to sit beside her, looking unusually glum.

"It was him, wasn't it?"

"What was him?" She asked casually, at the same time using her Gift to scry to any magical or physical spies. Thom took the hint and casually flicked balls of purple fire at the wall, as she relaxed, realising that there was no one there.

"Roger." He said.

"Yes," she agreed. "It was Roger. Not only was the ground around where the queen slipped covered in the residue of his Gift, but he winked at me when I saw him in the pavilion after Jon and I got back."

Thom nodded. "This is really serious Alanna. We have to stop him soon – he's already killed one member of the royal family."

She sighed angrily. "I _know_. But he's as slippery as a fish, and there's not one bit of evidence I've been able to get against him since I supposedly joined his forces."

"Do you think he suspects you're not loyal to him? That might explain why he's told you so little and why you haven't met anyone else with him."

She shook her head. "No, I think he's just like that by nature – he doesn't trust anyone. That'd eventually be what brought him down in the end if he was king, but it'll be to late for us if that ever does happen."

Her comb snagged on a knot. "Ow!"

Thom smiled in spite of himself. "Here."

She handed him the comb. "Just like when we were little. It'd be nice to be nine years old again, sometimes. None of this worrying about treacherous dukes and political alliances and everything."

"Mmm." He said. "True, but would you really want Maude running after again telling you to 'get back here right now young lady and put your dress back on,' because you'd decided you wanted to go for a swim?"

She grinned. "True. But it _was_ awfully funny to see her give up and just stand there trying to yell while she was puffing and red as a beetroot."

"Your were a mean child."

"I was not! I was just – high spirited."

Thom snorted, and muttered something that sounded like it referred to her free spirit and the nether region of his atonomy.

"What was that Thom?" Alanna asked in a falsely sweet voice.

"Nothing."

"You really shouldn't speak like that in front of a lady."

He mimed looking around. "What lady? I don't see any ladies."

Alanna rolled her eyes. "I'm not even going to deign to respond to that."

***

Grey storm clouds – the first sign of the impending autumn and winter – scudded across the sky, sending a spattering of rain down upon Corus. People muttered superstitiously – a few claimed that even the sky wept for their beloved queen.

Queen Lianne's body lay in it's open coffin in the chapel of the black god within the palace grounds, nobles filing in for her funeral.

"Are feeling alright, your Highness?"

Jon turned at the sound of Alanna's voice. Of course, in a public place, she had to call him 'your highness,' rather than Jon.

He nodded, swallowing rather hard. "I'm fine."

She looked at him, concern in her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure – not really."

She smiled wryly. "Life is shit, Jon. I sympathise."

"Thanks. Sit with me?"

"Isn't that against protocol?"

He shrugged. "Probably, if I could be bothered remembering. But right now I'm so distraught I can't –"

She sighed, taking his arm. "Alright."

The duke walked up behind Jon. "Cousin, are you alright?"

Jon nodded. "I think so."

The duke sighed, false sympathy radiating from him. "Ah, me, the loss of a parent is a terrible thing. My deepest condolences – aunt Lianne was a wonderful person."

He looked at Alanna over Jon's bowed head, giving her a slight smile, and mouthed 'soon.' 

***

Despite the fact the official mourning period was not yet over, the foreign dignities that came to court to express their condolences to King Roald and his son had to be properly received, and it was at one of these many receptions that Duke Roger sought her out.

"I think that it is time, my lady, for you to meet my court. I will be holding a meeting one-day hence, shortly after the midday meal. I will escort you there myself. Will you be in your rooms?"

It was an order, not a question. 

Alanna looked up at him. "Of course, my lord."

He smiled. "Good."

She caught Thom looking at them, saw him close his eyes.

The duke left her by the refreshment tables, and Alanna leaned back against a pilar, sipping at a goblet of wine. _Thom?_

_Yes?_

_Did you find anything out?_

_Yes – he trusts you now, mostly. He thinks you would've protested more if you weren't loyal to him about not knowing the location yourself._

_Anything else?_

_I got a vague idea of where it is – I can have the king, Jon, and my lord Provost – _

_Don't forget sir Myles._

_ – and sir Myles, in that area, and then use the link between our Gifts to scry for you without Duke Roger knowing …_

_Are you sure?_

_Yes. As far as I know, we two are the only nobles, possibly the only people in Tortall, to have this aspect to our Gift. Anyway, as I was saying, we'll hide in one of the little hidden things that are behind every room in the palace …_

Every _room? Even mine?_

_Yes, even yours. Stop interrupting. And then, after the meeting starts, Jon and his Majesty will have their proof, we'll have witnesses – the Provost and sir Myles, since the king and Jon couldn't really testify, and hopefully by the time the mourning period's over, Roger and his ilk will have had their ashes scattered from Traitor's hill._

_Where did you get such a bloodthirsty streak?_

_You're my sister._

***

King Roald hadn't been to keen on leaving his rooms to go gallivanting off to spy on people for at a moment's notice, and it had take a combination of being bullied by his son, the Provost, sir Myles, and his brother-in-law, who had walked in and become an impromptu member of the group, and, in the end, Jon giving up and telling him that it was they only way to avenge the queen's death.

Thom was waiting for them in the small, private passage that led from the king's chamber to all the other rooms in the palace – supposedly built for the use of the king's spies when the palace was first built, but it wasn't unheard of for an unscrupulous king to use it to visit his mistress privately in times past.

They ended up in one of the oldest sections of the palace, looking out on a corridor that was only slightly less dusty than the passage they were in.

Jon looked over at Thom. "Well?"

Thom looked back up at his tall friend. "Just a minute." 

He closed his eyes. _Alanna?_

_We're coming now. You might want to put that scrying spell – and some shields – up now._

_I'll do that._

He opened his eyes again, looking at Jon.

"She's coming. We just have to wait for them to get closer to where this meeting will be taking place before we can move."

Jon nodded.

***

Alanna took a deep breath, trying to calm her fast beating heart, and smiled up at Duke Roger.

"This way."

He pushed open the door.

Those waiting within rose at the sight of them, and Duke Roger smoothly detached his arm from Alanna's as Delia of Eldorne sank down before him in a deep curtsey.

"My Lord."

"Delia," he said, extending his hand for her to kiss.

"I believe you know lady Alanna, my newest recruit."

Delia smiled at her tightly. "We knew each other at the convent."

Alanna smiled back, seating herself. "A pleasure to see you again Delia."

Duke Roger continued. "And of course you know my former squire, Alex. But I don't believe you've meet Ralon of Malven …"

Alanna raised an eyebrow at the ugly brute leering at her. "No – I don't believe I have."

Roger sat. "Now – down to business. Although I have already taken the first step – my aunt is in her tomb now – we must be patient. It would be suspicious for all three members of the immediate royal family to die too closely together. My uncle might have some sort of 'accident,' such as the one I engineered in the case of the late queen, due to grief clouding his judgement, but my cousin is another matter. However, I do feel that within the next two years I shall have the crown, and then all of you will be rewarded amply. You have, on the whole, done well so far, and you must continue to do so. Should any of you let slip, and lead us to be discovered, rest assured, you will be severely punished. Alex," The young man looked up. "You must be more careful to maintain your friendship with my cousin – our goal will be made more difficult for all if you do not continue in your position now.

Alex nodded.

"Alanna," he said. "Well done. I might increase your own tasks now that you have proved you can perform the present ones well. However, you must abandon this – hesitation – regarding my cousin's suit. There is only so long a man can put up with that sort of thing before he gets bored with it, and, as I'm sure you have heard before, the closest secrets are the sort a man tells in the bedchamber."

Alanna smiled, feeling sick. "If that is your wish, your Grace."

He laughed. "Do not be so hesitant, my lady. There are many ladies at court that envy you your position, and not only because my cousin is heir to the crown."

His gaze alighted on Delia. "And you, my consort. _You_, have done brilliantly. You must keep it up."

Ralon didn't appear to be able to keep silent any longer. "What about me, your grace. What more may I do for you."

The smile dropped from the duke's face. "It is more a question of what _have_ you done for me, Malven. You have been nothing but a liability since I took you on. I believe, young Malven, that you have outlived any purpose you might once have had."

Ralon swallowed. "What – what do you mean, my lord?"

The duke raised his hand. "What I mean, Malven, is that it is time to dispose of you." A ball of orange fire condensed in his hand, and he threw it at Ralon. Alanna swallowed as the man screamed, hands outstretched like claws, and crumbled to a pile of ash.

The duke looked at her. She composed her face, and looked back at him. He smiled slightly, evidently pleased by what he saw. "You are all dismissed."

***

On the twenty-eight of August, in the twenty-second year of the reign of Roald of Conte, King of Tortall, Roger, Duke of Conte, was arrested for one count of regicide, two counts of attempted regicide, treason, and the murder of a fellow noble, one Ralon of Malven. 

His accomplices, lady Delia of Eldorne and Sir Alexander of Tirragen were arrested that same day, for treason.


	20. Judgement and Freedom

One of a Kind 

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Chapter Twenty: Judgement and Freedom

Alanna winced, clapping her hands over her ears as screams echoed down the dank hall.

"Can't somebody shut her up?" Demanded Thom. The guard shrugged. 

"Sorry, m'lord – she's been like that since we put her in there."

He rolled his eyes. "How in Mithros' name am I supposed to work with _that _racket going on?"

He looked over at Alanna, who shrugged. "Delia always _was _a drama queen."

"Hmmm." Was all he said.

Roger scowled at them through the bars in the door of his cell – actually an apartment fitted with bars and locks – as they came near. "So," he sneered. "It's the boy mage and the little spy come to make sure I haven't escaped, is it?"

Thom shrugged. "More or less." He closed his eyes, placing a hand on the door and reaching out the other for Alanna, the physical contact reinforcing the link between their Gifts. A more experienced mage could have done it with less power, but Thom had been mostly self-taught from the books in the palace' s magical library – somewhat limited in recent years due to Roger's influence – and as such he preferred to have Alanna there to lean on magically.

The door pulsed briefly with purple fire, threads of it flowing away through the mortar to resecure the spell the king had had them lay when Roger was first thrown into captivity, ensuring that he couldn't escape through use of either his Gift or more ordinary means.

Thom opened his eyes again. "Open the door."

The guard nodded curtly, unbuckling the heavy ring of keys he wore at his waist to unlock the door, allowing all three to step through. Roger stepped back slightly, but held his head high.

Thom nodded at the guard. "Hold him."

The guard – a burly fellow who reminded Alanna of Coram – stepped forward, seizing Roger by the arms. Thom stepped forward, reaching out to touch the metal bands around the former duke's wrists, and Alanna shuddered. _This_ was why the king had chosen them to do this task – even apart, either of them had a Gift stronger than the former duke's – though relatively untrained. Together, they had the power to not only hold a spell around Roger's prison strong enough to hold him in _should_ he be able to try his Gift against it, but also to place a spell in the bands that had been welded around his wrists and neck to bind his Gift. It basically worked by entangling their own Gifts around his, and it horrified Alanna to be constantly aware of Roger's Gift pushing against her own, testing it for weakness's that would not only break the spell, but her in the process.

The former duke snarled in pain and defiance, and Alanna fought to keep her hands by her side, resisting a temptation that was almost instinctive to bring them up into a guard.

Thom stepped back again. "We're done." 

Despite herself, Alanna sighed with relief. Roger's eyes flashed at her and she turned and walked perhaps a little faster than strictly necessary to the door.

***

Jon looked over at her. "Are you alright?"

Alanna sighed. "I'm a little tired. Helping Thom keep Roger under control is taking a lot out of me."

_More than you care to admit, I'll wager._

He looked down at his hands, where they rested on the stone of the balcony ledge. "I'm sorry – when I think back, it seems so obvious that it was Roger's hand behind so much that happened, and I must have made it so hard for you, trusting him like that – stupid to have."

She smiled sadly, shrugging. "You have to trust someone – why not your family. He's a very good actor."

He brushed her cheek, and suddenly it seemed hard to breathe. "Jon," she began. She swallowed, and tried again. "Jon – there's no need for you to act anymore – no one's watching us …"

"I wasn't acting." Alanna looked up at him, startled as much by his words as by the husky tone of his voice. He brushed his hand against her cheek again, lifting her chin. "May I?"

She swallowed. "What?"

"Kiss you."

She shrugged. "If you like."

He leaned forward, brushing her lips lightly. Surprising herself as much as him, Alanna responded, her arms seeming to come up and wrap themselves around his neck of their own free will.

Jon pulled back, eyes wide. "And here I was thinking you were going to hit me."

Alanna laughed, a trifle nervously, only then realising just how close they were. She blushed, the colour visible only as a slight darkening of her pale skin. "We probably should go back inside before someone sees us."

He sighed. "Suppose so. Or," he looked down. "We _could_ go for a walk in the gardens …"

Alanna made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough. "Well that's just _filled_ with implications, isn't it, my lord Prince?"

Now it was Jon's turn to blush. "Sorry – I didn't mean to."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well – if you promise to be a gentleman and stand on your chivalry, I'm sure it wouldn't do that much harm."

He grinned, releasing her to offer his arm. "Then shall we?"

She smiled archly. "Of course."

It wasn't uncommon for the gardens to be used for secret trysts among young men and women – nobles and commoners alike. There was, after all, something to be said for dark bushes and flowery arbours. However, the paths were all well lit, and Alanna and Jon stayed well within the boundaries of them, Jon following Alanna's lead.

Jon murmured something, and Alanna looked up. "What?"

"I used to play here as a little boy, when court functions got to be too much."

She grinned. "Nothing's changed then?"

"Not really. There's a crack here." He said, lifting here gently. Alanna looked up, and he kissed her again. She smiled, turning to kneel and run her hands gently over stone, and sure enough, there it was.

She raised her eyebrows. "You remembered that from what, fifteen years ago? I'm impressed."

"I have a good memory."

The bell tower tolled, announcing midnight. Alanna looked up at it from where she still knelt on the path. "It's getting late – I should get back to my rooms."

Jon looked crestfallen. "It's not _that_ late."

She smiled up at him, holding out a hand for him to help her up. "Nonetheless, I have to get up early, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. "Alright. May I walk you back to your rooms?"

Alanna raised a single coppery eyebrow. 

HE held up his left hand, crossing his right over his heart. "Just to the door – I wouldn't want to besmirch your reputation."

Alanna smiled, taking his hand, then dropped it, blushing, and together they walked together back to her rooms, not touching – not quite.

They reached her rooms and Jon took her hand, brushing it lightly with his lips, but instead of releasing it, he used it to pull her closer to gently kiss her lips. Alanna pulled back, smiling. "I really should go to bed."

He nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Jon." She murmured, opening the door. Closing it, she slid down against her grinning foolishly.

"Have a good time?" She looked up in surprise at Shannyn.

"The best."

***

Liam looked up in surprise as Alanna all but bounced down the stairs to the practise courts. "You're up early."

She smiled. "I got a lot of sleep last night." In truth, she hadn't, and when she had, her dreams had prevented it from being truly restful, but she had found them anything but unpleasant.

Liam looked up at her. "I think we'll just work at unarmed today."

Alanna nodded, and they began.

***

Liam dropped onto a nearby bench. "Well," he said. "That settles it, then."

Alanna looked over at him. "What?"

"I didn't think you were ready for it this summer, but I want to take you to the annual meeting of the Shang next summer."

"And?" she prompted, curious. 

He sighed. "I want you to face the Ordeal then. I think you'll be ready then."

This was unexpected. "But – I haven't trained for long enough – have I?"

He looked down. "You are, quite honestly, the most gifted student I have ever taught the ways of Shang. You're naturally talented, very quick, strong, and agile. That, combined with the fact that you had previous training before I took you on, and that you're already teaching alongside with me – teaching final year Tortallan squires – makes me think – know – that you're ready for this."

She swallowed, but Liam hadn't finished yet. "The only thing is that you must have the confidence for it. You are, naturally confident in your fighting abilities, but you must not allow yourself to be cowed by the idea of facing the Ordeal of Shang – I believe you can do it, but you must believe that, too."

She nodded. "If you think I'm ready –"

He looked up again. "I _know_ you're ready. Trust me, Alanna."

She nodded. "Alright."

He smiled. "Good lass." He stood up. "Ah, here come the pages. Could you get the staffs?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

***

Liam had decided to work with staffs across the entire range – including third and fourth year squires. Alanna walked along the row of squires, checking posture and generally supervising. Thom turned around. "Why hello, sister dear."

"Hello Thom."

"Have a good time last night?"

"Yes –"

Thom made a face. "I saw you with Jon. You looked … rather cosy."

Alanna blushed. "We were talking."

"Mmmm." He said. "You didn't really think you could put it past me, did you?"

"Put what past you?"

"Your blatantly-obvious-to-anyone-with-eyes relationship with Jon."

"What relationship?" She asked, casually picking up a staff and attacking him slowly. He blocked, intent more on the conversation than on sparring.

"That little scene out on the balcony. I'm hoping that's a relationship, cause if it isn't …"

"You'll put frogs in Jon's bed?"

He scowled. "Anyone who messes with my little sister deserves more than frogs in their bed."

She laughed. "Protecting me, Thom? I don't need it, I'll have you know."

He slammed her staff aside. "Just because you can fight doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about the world. I've known Jon a lot longer than you have, Alanna."

She sighed. "I'm aware of the many affairs he's had, Thom. It's kind of hard to keep something like that secret about any noble, let alone the Crown Prince."

He looked up. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

Alanna's lips tightened. "I can manage my own affairs, Thom."

"So I shouldn't be worried about you?"

"Worry all you want. Just don't interfere when it's not your business."

"I think it's my business when it concerns my sister and best friend." He muttered.

She sighed. "Fine. Do whatever you want _if_ anything happens. But interfere without any reason other than this absurd over-protectiveness and _you'll_ be the one with much worse than frogs in your bed."

***

"Alanna!"

She spun, skirts swirling around her, and blushed. "Hello Jon."

He smiled back, if a little tightly. "I've just been to see father. He's – he's set the date for the trial as two days hence." He gripped her hand tightly.

Oh, Jon." She sighed, hugging him. "Are you alright? He is your cousin, after all –"

His mouth tightened. "He killed my mother."

Alanna was silent. He looked at down at her. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

She looked up, surprised. "Oh, nothing really. There're no lessons, so after my workout with Liam, I'm not sure what I'll be doing."

He nodded, raising her hand to hip lips. "Would you like to come riding?"

She made a face. "That depends. Where to?"

"Port Cayn."

She coughed. "That's quite a way from here."

"Please? I could use the distraction."

She smiled, wrinkling her nose at him. "Fine."

"Thank you. Shall I come to your apartments to get you?"

"Yes."

"Ahem." They both turned at the sound of Thom, leaning against a wall nearby. He raised an eyebrow. "This is what you call nothing?" He mocked gently.

Alanna blushed. "Shut up."

"Rhiannon's looking for you. I think she wants to go shopping."

"I'd better go and find her then."

"Yes." He said, standing up straight to walk closer to Jon as she picked up her skirts, walking away, then suddenly stopped, and spun on her heel. She fixed a hard stare on Thom. "Play nice. Both of you."

***

Jon lifted her down from Luna's saddle, an irritating but necessary part of riding sidesaddle, whispering in her ear. "Welcome to Port Cayn."

She looked around. "It's changed."

He looked surprised. "You've been here before?"

"Once. When I officially became Liam's apprentice – there was a Shang meeting here. I didn't get to see much of the town."

He nodded. "Well, I'll have to show you around."

She looked over at him, a half-smile playing over her lips. "I take it you've been here a few times."

He rolled his eyes. "More than a few. When I was younger, not long after the beginning of their reign, my parents liked to hold a summer court here once a month – they said it allowed the common people to come and see them without having to travel so far, but I never really saw how a less hours out of a trip that could take days – weeks, even – would be significantly shortened by a few hours."

"One of the things you intend to change when you become king?"

He stared at her, startled. "How in Mithros' name did you know that?"

She smiled. "You get this distant look in your eyes whenever you're thinking about the future. And you're _such_ a – a – Royal. There's no other way to put it. Someone else might try and fight their future, but you – you don't just accept having to one day lead all those people, you embrace it."

He shrugged. "I can't. I tried – sort of – when I was younger, but if I have to be king, I might as well do it well. I'm not saying sometimes I don't wish that's not what will eventually happen, but I can't change it –"

She smiled. "You never feel trapped by it?"

He looked down at her, squinting against the afternoon sun behind her. "Less often than I used to."

She shrugged. "I suppose having your life mapped out as a king-in-waiting is different to having your life mapped out as a lady. I mean – for me the life everyone expected me to lead was sitting quietly while I embroidered something for the latest brat my husband had got on me. Whereas you get – well, somewhat more freedom as to your life than I was given."

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't hear any mention of becoming the only female noble Gifted Shang in recent history – if not ever – in those plans."

She smiled archly. "I never said my plans for me matched those everyone around me had for me."

He laughed. "Do you _ever_ do what people expect you to do?"

"Which people? Thom, Shannyn, Rhia and Tat might be able to tell what I'd do in the face of some situations, but by no means all."

"Which makes it all the more interesting when you surprise them."

She grinned. "Exactly."

***

Alanna shuddered as she and Thom made their way to Roger's prison again. The last few days with Jon, she had managed – mostly – to forget about his cousin, while learning about an entirely different side to Jon, one she'd never seen before.

He looked up at them from where he was seated as they entered. "They tell me I'm to be judged today."

Thom reached for the bands around Roger's wrists, padlocking the heavy chains into the heavy steel loops designed for just that purpose. Their presence was an unpleasant experience for both of them, but necessary – only they could modify the spells that surrounded the former duke to allow him out of the prison to the courtroom where he would be judged. 

The guards – there were two this time, led him out; Alanna and Thom following close behind.

***

Jon looked at Alanna from his vantage point by his father on the platform, seated beside Thom. She looked paler than usual, though the frail redhead's complexion was usually a pale milk colour, making it hard to tell.

King Roald stood. "Roger of Conte, you have been accused of Regicide in one case – the murder of our most beloved queen – and attempted Regicide in two cases – against us, your Sovereign, and our son, your cousin. This also holds the charge of treason against your country and ruler. Added to this is the murder of your fellow noble and conspirator, one Ralon of Malven. How do you plead?"

Roger lifted his chin. "Not guilty, your Majesty."

The king continued. "Delia of Eldorne. You have been accused of being an accomplice to treason, allying yourself against us with Roger of Conte. How do you plead?"

Delia's face had lost none of it's haughtiness, though she looked strangely plain without her cosmetics, and her voice was horse from her constant screaming during her imprisonment. "Not guilty, your Majesty."

He looked at Alex. "Alexander of Tirragen, you are likewise accused of being an accomplice to treason, allying yourself against us with Roger of Conte. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty, your Majesty."

The king's face was grim, and lined like an old man since the death of Jon's mother. "Call the first witness."

A herald beside him looked at the rolled parchment in his hand. "Myles of Olau."

Sir Myles rose, and walked to the witness box. The king looked at him. "What is your evidence for this case?"

Sir Myles cleared his throat. "I was witness to a secret meeting, which I and others were informed of by the lady Alanna of Trebond, who was working as a double agent for his Highness – " Here he nodded at Jon. "– at which Roger of Conte spoke openly of using his Gift to cause the death of the late queen, and at which he murdered Ralon of Malven. He also spoke openly of his intent to cause the death of King Roald and Prince Jonathan."

The king nodded. "Is that all?"

Sir Myles inclined his head. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Call the next witness."  
The herald once again read from his list, and this time it was Duke Gareth who came forward, to speak of the meeting he had been witness to.

Thom was called, his extra evidence causing several gasps from those assembled, and then, last of all, Alanna.

The king regarded her. "Lady Alanna. As both our son and all previous witnesses have told us, you worked as a double agent on behalf of our son. Is this true?"

She nodded. "Yes, your Majesty."

He leaned forward slightly. "And why was that?"

She lifted her chin. "My brother informed me of much of what he suspected and knew about the duke whilst he was at the palace these last several years. When I came here, and became friends with his Highness, the duke approached me with a suggestion that I exploit my friendship with the Prince as a spy for him. He offered to reward me –" at the king's nod, she continued. "He offered to reward me with a position in his inner circle once he became king. I pretended to accept and work as his agent. When I was given news of this meeting, I informed my brother and his Highness, and my brother used the link between our Gifts to track me to where the meeting was taking place, and lead the other witnesses to it. I saw the duke kill Ralon of Malven, and heard him speak openly of those things now brought against him."

The king nodded. "Very well. Call Roger of Conte to the stand."

Roger stood there, holding himself as if he were the king and Roald the man on trial. He denied it all, of course, but when he had left the stand the king himself rose, declaring his presence amongst those who witnessed the meeting, and that there was no way to discount the evidence of his own eyes. Then he declared his sentence, and, if it were possible, Alanna went even paler. 

"Roger of Conte – you shall be beheaded, and your body burnt, it's ashes scattered to the wind. Delia of Eldorne and Alexander of Tirragen, you shall both be hung, and your bodies burnt, their ashes scattered to the wind. This shall take place at dawn on the morrow."

Alanna was so white Jon worried she might faint. 

"Court dismissed."

He hurried through the crowd to her side, ignoring the murmurs that followed in his wake, taking her hands. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at him. "That's _horrible_. I know it's no more than he deserves – no more than any of them do, but – tomorrow I'll have to lead him to his execution."

Jon wrapped his arms around her. "Thom," he said, looking at the squire over Alanna's head. "Does the other person have to be Alanna?"

The young man looked thoughtful. "Not necessarily. It'd be harder, of course, but if the other person were a strong mage, it wouldn't be to hard for one night. Mithros, I could perform it on my own if I had the training. Unfortunately, I don't."

"Could I do it?"

Thom raised his eyebrows, shoving his hands in his pockets in a very undignified manner. "I suppose so – it's pretty horrible, though." His gaze fell to Alanna, then back up to Jon's face, understanding dawning in his eyes. "But if you're willing …"

Jon nodded. "I'm willing."

***

The crowd gathered on and below Traitor's Hill, murmuring in suppressed excitement.

Alanna looked around. "This is disgusting. All these people come to watch them die."

Jon squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It's alright."

She shook her head. "No, it's not. I know they're traitors Jon, but for people to come to their execution as if it was some sort of entertainment is disgusting."

He looked down at her, frowning. "I'm not saying it's morally correct, Alanna. I'm just saying that's what most people are like. And it does discourage treachery, if you want to look at it from my father's point of view."

"So you accept it?" She demanded. 

He shrugged. "What else can I do? I don't like the idea of people viewing death as some sort of entertainment any more than you do, but I can't stop it."

She looked at him accusingly. "Yes you could."

He sighed. "I'm not king yet, Alanna. If I had a choice, I would have chosen to have it done privately, if only to save you this."

"Oh, so you' d do it for me, but not because you think it's what you should do."

He closed his eyes briefly, rubbing his forehead. "You're being difficult. Of course I think that's what should be done, I was just saying that I don't like to see you distressed like this."

She looked down. 

"Are you still mad at me?"

She sighed. "No."

"Then why won't you look at up me?"

"I'll do it battle but I don't want to view a man having his head cut off."

"Oh."

"Tell me when it's over."

He didn't need to – the ecstatic cries of the crowd told her as each of the traitors died.

When it was over, and the bodies heaped onto the bonfire, a wind leapt up, trailing the ashes into swirling eddies in the air, chasing people home. Ironically, given the execution of one of the Royals, the next day was the end of mourning, and the court blazed with colour once again.


	21. Departure

One of a Kind 

Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable from the SotL quartet is mine. It's all Tammy's.

Chapter Twenty-One: Departure

Luna's pale hair glimmered in the lantern light, and she nickered softly at the sight of Alanna, cloaked and hooded, creeping towards her. The girl reached the mare and held out a hand, opening it to revel several sugar lumps, and reached forward with the other to hang the lantern on a nail so she could stroke the mare's nose. Luna finished the treat and looked back up at Alanna, eyes pleading. She laughed softly. "No – you'll get fat, and I won't have a warhorse anymore."

Reaching for saddle and bridle, she tightened  the girdle gently around her mare's slightly swollen belly. Gary had snickered when Stefan had announced in a somewhat embarrassed fashion to Alanna and Jon that it appeared Alanna's horse was expecting, since some fool lad had put her in a field with Darkness while she was on heat. Thom was there too, and even he couldn't control his laughter when the pair of them blushed furiously, despite the fact there was no connection between their own – supposedly secret and most certainly not sexual – relationship and their horses'.

Alanna finished with Luna's tack and took hold of her reins, leading the mare quietly out of the stables. Once outside, Luna snorted softly. Alanna grinned. "I agree. Stefan's an agent for the Rogue himself and he can't even stop a possible thief?" Luna snorted again, nudging her shoulder softly, as if to reprimand her for even thinking Luna would go off with someone that wasn't Alanna in the middle of the night.

She mounted, drawing her hood forward to hide any revealing strands of copper hair, and set of towards the hunting grounds – the more tame section of the royal forest that lead onto the _real_ wilderness.

Luna moved quietly, despite her pregnancy, taking care not to snap a single twig beneath her hooves. 

Alanna leaned forward to stroke her horse's neck softly. "Good girl." She whispered. "I hope you're recovered properly before I go – I'd hate to go on all those adventures without you."

Stefan had told her the foal would be due perhaps two or three months before she had to leave with Liam – long enough for the foal to be weaned to bottle and mash, since she couldn't very well take it with her. 

She noticed a glimmer ahead of her and swore. Lost in thought, she had given Luna her head, and they were in a section of the forest the curved around in front of Corus. They could go back the same way they had come, of course, but that required a ride through a dark and permanently uphill forest, a dangerous practise which all to often resulted in falls for both rider and horse, occasionally fatal. She had gone that way once, and it had been worrying enough without Luna gravid. 

The other way, of course, was through the city of Corus – a way that required greeting the gate guards, since no-one would be allowed in at that time of night without identification and a reason for being out of the city so late, a explanation – to the guards, to her brother, when he found out – and he _would_ – to Jon, if _he_ found out,  and possibly to several older nobles who would instruct her on the importance of propriety.

With a sigh, she turned Luna towards the city.

***

"Halt there!" Came a voice, rough with a commoner's accent and perhaps a bit to much ale. "Who goes there? What's your business?"

Alanna stopped, and drew her hood back enough to allow them to see her face, taking off her glove to show him her signet ring – delicate as far as signet rings went, white gold carved with the emblem of Trebond and a swirling A. "Alanna of Trebond."

He stumbled forward, squinting at her ring in the torchlight. "Aye," he said at last, looking up at her. "And what's a pretty young noble like you doing out of the city this late at night?"

She lifted her chin. "If you must know, I was out exercising my horse, away from the heat of the day – although why it should be any of your business I cannot fathom." She said in her iciest voice.

He looked up at her. "And do ye have any other proof that you are the young lady? You might've taken that and 'er horse there from the lady, or got given you by yer lover-boy, p'raps."

She flicked her dagger to his throat, at the same time snapping her fingers to produce a ball of violet light, trusting to her reputation as a fighter and the fame of the Trebond Gift. His eyes widened in the mage-light, and he stepped back. "Very well then,  yer ladyship, I'll let you in. But I'll have to record the time and yer name, seein' as how ye came in so late, and seein' as yer such an important person."

Alanna cursed silently. _Brilliant. Sir Myles'll see the list, and he'll tell Thom, and Thom'll tell Jon – it'll never end!_

Outwardly, though, she smiled, if rather tightly, at the guard, dropping a few coins in the dirt next to him. 

"Very well." She murmured, in her sweetest, most innocent voice. _Oh, that's good. _Commented Faithful from where he had been, 'til now, asleep under her cloak. _Make an attempt on the man's life and then try to fool him into thinking you're an innocent young thing out for the dubious thrill of it._

_Shut up,_ she replied. _I'm hoping the ale will convince him for me._

Still she smiled at him, using her Gift as subtly as possible to knock over the inkbottle that stood on the bench behind him, hoping fervently there weren't any more supplies around. "Have a drink on me when you get off duty." She murmured, nudging Luna into a walk past him.

***

Luna stirred uneasily beneath Alanna at laughing revellers tumbled out of the Dancing Dove. She glanced towards the inn, warm and glowing gently in a suddenly cold winter's night, and shuddered as a snowflake landed on her cloaked shoulder, at the edge of her vision. She looked up. "I suppose we should stay here awhile and see if it all blows over – better than going up to the palace straight away again, I suppose."

Luna snorted her approval and Alanna waited for a comment from Faithful. When none came, she peeked under her cloak at the cat, sighing in exasperation as she realised he had gone back to sleep again.

Stepping inside, hands full with Faithful, she looked around for George – they had become friends since she first came to Corus, although she didn't manage to see him very often. He was seated at his 'throne' by the fire, observing the inn over a mug of ale. His eyes rested on her, sharpening as she walked towards him, pulling up a chair beside him for her.

"Haven't seen ye in a while, lass."

She blinked in surprise, one hand going to her hood to check that it was still pulled forward. "How'd you know it was me, George?"

He grinned. "Ye have a distinctive way of walking, lass. It's something of an odd mix between the delicacy of a proper young lady, and someone who's clearly been trained to fight."

She smiled, seating herself. "Rather like me, then."

He nodded. "Indeed, yer walk is very telling of who ye are, lass. D'you want somethin' to eat or did you have something at the palace?"

Alanna raised an eyebrow. "If you could call what they serve at balls a proper meal, then you could say I have eaten. But I've just been out riding in a cold winter's night in the woods – I'd like something more, well, filling."

He grinned. "I'll have somethin' got for ye. Rispah!"

She looked curiously at the redhead bustling towards them, playfully slapping at the hands most of the men seemed intent on extending.

"Who's Rispah?"

George looked startled for a moment, then laughed. "That's right, ye haven't met Rispah yet. That's her –" he said, nodding at the redhead. "She's Queen of the Ladies of the Rogue."

Alanna's eyebrows arched. "Your wife?"

He shook his head, grinning broadly. "No, lass, Rispah's m' cousin."

The woman reached them, smiling. She noticed Alanna and winked suggestively, and Alanna blushed with embarrassment. 

"Why hello there young Thom – you gonna take any of my lasses up on their offers tonight? Some of them are getting mighty tired of waiting for ye to pay them a visit." Alanna's blush deepened, and George roared with laughter. "Rispah! It's bad enough ye baiting Thom, but his poor innocen' sister?"

Rispah's jaw dropped. "Sister?"

Alanna pulled back her hood nervously. "Hello – I'm Alanna." She murmured, holding out a hand, still blushing furiously.

Rispah's look of confusion changed, understanding dawning on her face. "Oh! Thom's mentioned ye once or twice, but ye just seem so alike from a distance – bet ye learned a thing or two ye didn't know before, did ye?"

Alanna grinned. "You could say that – I never realised Thom was so popular."

Rispah laughed. "The lasses like mages, for some reason. Perhaps because their gifts are usually more exotic than the average man's."

Alanna laughed. "I see."

George broke in. "Speaking of yer lasses, get one of the t' bring some food and ale over here for Alanna."

"Just water please." She interrupted.

Rispah looked at her, surprised. "Ye don't want to drink the water here, lass. It might be a'right up in the palace and out in the country, but down in the lower city it's not got the most pleasant of tastes. Ye'd best take some lemonade, if ye won't have ale."

Alanna smiled. "Thankyou. I prefer to stay sober – it's harder to fight when you're drunk."

George nodded. "True – though it took me longer to figure out than it did you, I'll wager."

Alanna grinned at him. "I didn't – Liam all but ordered me to stay away from the ale bottle."

Rispah looked on curiously, drawing up a chair to their table. "Who's this Liam?"

"The Shang Dragon." Alanna replied. "He's my Shang master."

Rispah nodded. "Ah, yes. You're the one that's apprenticed to him. Normally I have a better memory for names."

A pretty girl approached, a steaming plate in one hand, mug in the other, and deposited it before Alanna. She made to wink at Alanna, and stepped back in surprise when she realised it wasn't Alanna's brother, but a girl of her own age. 

Rispah grinned. "Just his sister tonight, lass."

"So – how are things at the palace?" George asked.

She arched an eyebrow at him sceptically. "Why do you ask? You already know, I'm sure – and it's probably more than I do."

He leaned forward. "So ye'd prefer me to tell ye, then.  All right, I'll start with you. Some fool apprentice of Stefan's let your horse into a paddock with his Highness's horse while she was on heat, and now she's gravid. So far no evil sorcerers have tried to take the duke's place killing people – no nobles have died relatively recently. The prince has a new favourite, apparently, but there's some dispute over whether she's actually his lover – " Alanna blushed furiously, and George eyed her speculatively. "– since those who _do_ know aren't tellin'. Oh, and the Dragon's got something big happening, but so far, no-one's been able to figure out what – they've all been busy trying to dredge up information on the Prince's newest lady."

She looked at him coolly. "No doubt they've been busy."

"Aye, and acting on their own, not on any orders o' mine, lass."

"So you haven't managed to bring Shannyn over to your cause yet."

He sighed. "Alas, no. The girl's as loyal as anythin', Alanna, and ye should treasure that – a loyalty like that's hard to come by, and to have it from even one person is a blessing. Yer lucky – ye've got lots of loyal friends, more than enemies, and that's rare when the person in question is someone like ye."

She smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Faithful leapt up into her lap, fur warm from napping by the fire, and she yawned massively, almost splitting her face in two.

"I'd better get going – I'm about to fall asleep in my chair, here."

He leaned backwards, glancing out a high window. "No you aren't – it's snowing heavier than ever, and late to boot. Stay here tonight, and ye can get back to the palace early tomorrow."

Rispah nodded. "He's right. C'mon, lass, I'll arrange a room and bed for ye."

Alanna nodded, too tired to worry any further. "Alright." She murmured, yawning. She stopped suddenly, halfway up the narrow wooden stairs beside Rispah. "No, not alright."

She turned, heading back down the stairs.

Rispah took hold of her arm. "What's wrong, lass?"

Alanna shook her head. "If word gets round at the palace that I didn't sleep in my own rooms tonight, there'll be no stopping the rumours."

Rispah grinned. "Not to worry – someone'll be sure to head back up to the palace tonight or early tomorrow – George'll get a message to your maid, and I'll make sure any rumours are squashed promptly. It'll be fine, lass. I know how to preserve a girl's reputation. Now, ye need sleep."

Alanna had been standing still on the step, Rispah's hand holding onto her arm.

She nodded. "Alright, then. I suppose you're giving me no choice, in any case."

Rispah grinned. "Not really. I'll see ye to a room and make sure it's locked 'gainst these idiots – " she gestured at the drunks below them. " – and I'll have one of the girls bring you water for washing tomorrow morning."

***

As was her habit, Alanna woke early the next morning, ready for her daily exercise and lesson. Glancing round the room, she blinked, for a moment forgetting where she was, then sank back into the pillows with a sigh, running a hand over Faithful's fur where he lay beside her, snoring quietly. _No lesson today then. All the same …_

With a sigh, she rose, reaching for her breeches and shirt where she'd flung them the night before over the room's sole chair, before realising they were no longer there.

The door opened, and a girl a year or two younger than her entered, carrying a bowl of steaming water, a towel over one arm and Alanna's clothes over the other.

Bobbing a curtsy somewhat awkwardly, she murmured a polite, "Good morning, milady."

Alanna smiled, covering a yawn with one hand. "Good morning."

The girl placed her load on the small table and curtsied again, exiting quickly.

Alanna looked at the bowl. "Better than a stream, I suppose."

_Much better_. Faithful commented.

She stared at him. "When did you wake up?" She demanded.

The cat licked a paw, his version of a shrug. _The door let a draft in._

Alanna scowled. "How exactly does licking yourself make you clean?"

The cat looked up, wide purple eyes mirroring Alanna's own oft-used innocent look. _At least it's not as cold as a stream._

***

Alanna stroked Luna's nose as she removed the horse's delicately tooled bridle – a gift from Jon on her last birthday, 'for when she rode through the streets to cheering crowds,' as he put it, along with matching saddles – a combined gift from Jon, Rhia and Thom – were made of a dark mahogany-coloured leather, gleaming with golden highlights along their metalwork.

Ignoring the voices outside, she hummed softly, fetching a currycomb to tug through Luna's mane.

"… Hasn't seen her since yesterday evening …"

"…Sure nothing's happened … worry too much …"

"… Not without enemies … it's possible …"

"… Kidnapped? Her? Not worth the tongue-lashing she'd give them, if you ask me …"

Alanna paused, curious at the snatches of conversation. Jon entered the stables, arguing furiously with Thom and Gary, and Alanna realised it must have been them she heard.

He was paler than usual, and when he saw her, he turned the colour of parchment, his expression turning to one of mingled fury and relief.

Striding over, he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, shaking her.

"Where in Mithros' name have you been?" He raged. "Have you any idea how worried I've been? You could've been kidnapped, killed, and I had no idea what had happened to you! How dare you worry me like that!"

Alanna's jaw dropped, and she pushed him away. "How dare I? Who do you think you are, my keeper? I went out for a ride last night and stayed at the Dove, though what right you have to know I can't imagine!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thom tug at Gary's sleeve, pulling him out to give them some semblance of privacy – _as if he's not going to be standing outside listening._

Jon glared at her. "What right do I have to know? By the Goddess, Alanna, I think I have _every_ right to know!"

"Why? Because you happen to be Prince of Tortall that means I have to tell you everything about myself and what I'm doing?"

"I think you could've at least let someone know where you were going! I had no idea – for your own sake you should've let someone know where you were."

She glared at him icily. "I'm perfectly well able to take care of myself, as you well know."

He sighed angrily. "You're not invincible, Alanna, for all you think you are. I care about you – I love you. And I didn't know if I'd ever even _see_ you again – I think I have a right to be angry."

"Just because you love me doesn't give a right to control my life."

He sighed again, this time wearily. "I never said I did – just that I thought I had a right to be angry."

She stared at him. "Well you don't. Just as you don't have the right to treat me as if I was a child. How on earth can you love me if you don't trust me?"

His mouth tightened, and the mask – the Prince – slipped over his now emotionless features. "Perhaps when you stop acting like a child and risking yourself so senselessly I'll trust you to keep yourself alive."

Alanna swallowed hard, and turned on her heel, striding out of the stables.

***

"Alanna? Let me in. That's an order, Alanna."

Alanna glared in the direction of the door through the gauze curtains of the arch separating sitting room and bedroom from her vantage point of her bed, sweaty and tearstained from her workout in the indoor courts.

"Shannyn, could you go and tell him I'm not here?"

Shannyn looked up, her face sympathetic. "Of course."

She rose, and Alanna heard the door opening, and the murmuring of voices, then Jon's clearly, raised in anger.

"Let me in!"

"I'm sorry, your Highness, milady is not here."

"So why won't you let me in?"

"Because there would be no point, your Highness – my lady is not here, and it would be an invasion of her private residence."

There was the sound of a brief scuffle – the door closing, and opening again, and Jon strode in, pushing aside the curtains carelessly. Shannyn followed, looking indignant. "I'm sorry, milady."

Alanna sighed. "It's all right. There's no stopping his Highness when he's being a prig." Rising, she made for the bathroom. Jon reached out, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?"

She glared at him. "I _was_ about to have a bath, before you so rudely burst in here."

"Horseshit. You're just trying to avoid me."

She looked down her nose at him, a somewhat difficult manoeuvre, considering he was a head taller than her. "You rate yourself highly."

His face tightened. "Sit down."

"Let go of my arm."

"Are you going to act your age and not run away the minute I let go?"

She glared at him. "If I wanted to leave that badly, I could do it now, as you know perfectly well. Perhaps I should in any case – Mithros' knows you could use being taken down a peg or two – perhaps putting you on your back would work."

He rolled his eyes. "Just sit down, would you?"

She glared pointedly at his hand on her arm, and he sighed and released it. She sat. "Is there a reason you came here, or did you just want to be a prig?"

He made a face at her, and sat. "I'm sorry for acting the way I did before – "

Alanna raised an eyebrow. "And?"

He sighed. "I won't promise not to do it again, but I'll try and keep my temper in check next time."

He looked pointedly at her.

"What?" Shannyn, who had been standing in the arch, coughed discreetly. 

She sighed. "Fine. I'll – make sure I tell Shannyn next time I go somewhere out –"

"In the middle of the night." Shannyn interjected. 

"–  In the middle of the night, or – leave a note, or something." 

"Thankyou." Said Jon and Shannyn in unison.

Alanna rolled her eyes. "Can I go have my bath now?"

Jon eyed her. "Well, I _was_ going to suggest we go down to the city but now that I see – and smell – you, it might be a good idea if you bathed first."

 Alanna raised a warning hand. "You smell worse after a workout, so shut up, or I might just be obliged to change my mind about taking you down that peg or two."

He rose somewhat hastily. "I'll come back later."

***

Alanna seated herself by Rhiannon in the banquet hall. Rhia grinned at her. "How's your horse?"

Alanna laughed, then quickly stifled it as the priestess seated at the end of the table glared at her. "Trust you to do that."

Rhia looked at her, her expression one of genuine puzzlement. "Do what?"

Alanna grinned. "Ask after my horse first and then after me."

Rhia frowned. "But you've just been to see your horse and I can see that you're perfectly fine – why shouldn't I?"

Alanna grinned. "How do you know I'm not hiding a broken heart behind this smiling façade?"

Rhia snorted. "You don't have the capacity for deception of that magnitude."

Alanna sighed. "You're right, I don't. How do you think Tat is?"

Rhia shrugged. "She sounded fine in that last letter of hers – I pity her having the Baroness Goldenlake for a mother-in-law though."

Alanna nodded emphatically. "Indeed. I can't imagine it being particularly pleasant for your mother-in-law's every second sentence to you to be something along the lines of – 'are you pregnant yet? Why not?' "

Rhia laughed. "I'm going to miss you when you leave."

Alanna smirked. "You won't have to miss me here for long – you'll get to go and be the lady Trebond and keep my brother in line."

Rhia arched her brows. "I suppose so." She murmured quietly. 

Alanna frowned. "You – you don't _mind_ marrying Thom, do you? I mean – there's not – someone else, is there?"

Rhia shook her head. "No! No – it's just – I admire Thom, and respect him – I just – I just don't _love_ him. I know a lot – most girls – wed for the sake of alliances, and I don't mind it, truly I don't – it'd just be nice to be like you, and not have to worry about marrying someone because your father wants you to, or even having to worry about marrying at all."

Alanna blinked. "Oh." There seemed nothing else to say. "Well – if it means that much to you, I – I could talk to Thom about it –"

Rhia shook her head. "No, don't do that. If you do, father'll just set up another alliance, and then I'll probably end up betrothed to some old man who'll be old enough to be my grandfather – frankly I'd prefer Thom."

Alanna nodded. "If that's what you want. Besides," she added thoughtfully. "This old man of yours would probably smell. At least Thom has the decency to wash his socks."

Rhia giggled. "You're right – and no doubt he'd be balding as well."

Alanna shuddered, adding in a falsetto voice, quite different from her ordinary alto – "Don't _speak_ of such things, Rhia, it'll foreshadow your future!"

***

Late that night, the stable boy on duty fetched the Head Hostler, Stefan, from his bed. 

***

Alanna looked down at the filly. "She's pretty."

Stefan grinned wearily. "She's beautiful, lass. And strong. Never seen a filly nor colt get up that quickly to their dam's teat."

She smiled. "Will she always have that colouring?"

Stefan nodded. "I'd say so – rare, that is. Never seen one with those particular markings meself, and I've seen my fair share of horses. All black, she'll be, but with a silver mane and tail – like a bit cut out of the night sky itself, she'll be."

Alanna stared at this uncharacteristically poetic expression from Stefan. "Then she must have a name appropriate to it."

"What, like Starlight?" Came Jon's voice from behind her.

She turned to him. "I do believe that fits. What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "My horse _did_ sire the foal, Alanna." He came to rest beside her on the low stall wall. "So, is that to be her name, then?"

Alanna looked at him, then to Stefan. "I think it fits – what do you think?"

He shrugged. "It's the only name that's been suggested, an' it certainly suits her."

Alanna smiled. "Well then – Starlight it shall be."

***

"You might want to think about breathing, there." Alanna turned at the sound of Jon's voice in her ear. The petite redhead had been staring blankly ahead, sword in hand as sweat dripped down her forehead for Mithros' only knew how long, alone in the practise courts. She grinned weakly at him. "Ready for the bout you promised me?"

He frowned. "What on earth were you thinking about just then."

She looked down. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me Alanna." He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "What's wrong?"

She swallowed. "In a week I'm leaving with Liam to go to the Shang council, for my ordeal. If I pass it, next year I'll receive a name among the Shang."

He frowned. "So what's the problem? You'll pass it, I know you will."

She shrugged. "Liam told me that the council would almost certainly set some sort of restriction on my year in the world – like not being permitted to spend it in Tortall – any of it."

He paled. "I see. So we won't see you for a year."

She nodded. "Yes." She murmured, and found herself locked in a tight embrace. Suddenly close to tears, she returned it. 

"I don't want you to go." 

Alanna bit her lip. "It won't be that bad – I'll finally have the chance to go on all those adventures I always wanted."

Jon kissed her, hard, then pulled away, kissing her more gently, one hand against her cheek. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at her, a question in his eyes.

Wordlessly, Alanna shook her head, and, biting her lip harder than ever, buried her head in his chest. "It'll be easier if we don't, Jon – easier for both of us."

He pulled away, expression grim. "You're probably right. We – we should get going – I don't have all day to duel with you."

***

Thom brushed back his hair, whipped about wildly as it was by the wind, and hugged her. Alanna sniffed. "I can't believe you're finally going." He whispered. "It doesn't seem like enough time has passed since we were children – not to mention you haven't grown enough for, what, thirteen years to have passed." He added, ducking as Alanna swung a playful right hook at his jaw.

She looked at Rhia. "I'm expecting you to come to Trebond as soon as the year's up, so you better be there." She said. Alanna gave a watery smile. "I'll be there. Count on it – and you have to keep me informed of Thom's doings, since he'll no doubt bury himself in the library the moment he gets home and forget to write to my latest address."

Rhia laughed, hugging her. "I'll do that."

Releasing her friend, Alanna looked at Jon. She had said her goodbyes in private earlier, so she merely hugged him lightly, pecking his cheek. "I'll miss you." She murmured.

"Feeling's mutual." He replied, and released her. Turning, Alanna mounted Luna, and Liam came over from where he'd been checking on the bindings for the packhorse. "Ready?"

Alanna nodded. "As I'll ever be."

He grinned. "Good – let's be off, then."


	22. Lady Shang

One of a Kind 

Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable from the SotL quartet is mine.

Chapter Twenty-two: Lady Shang

The clear, glass-like water rippled, the random light that played across it's surface coalescing into the image of a petite red-headed woman, her delicate features determined as she swung a slim silver blade around her in a complex pattern of spin and thrust.

"You can't interfere this time, you know." The god murmured over its surface. "She has to prove herself to them on her own, without any assistance – of _any_ sort."

The Goddess straightened, her emerald eyes icy. "I know that, Brother. The girl is one of my Chosen – she needs no help to pass this test."

"Yet you have a habit of interfering where you should not."

"I intervene where it is appropriate, as is my right."

Mithros nodded slowly, the movement sending a scattering of golden light over the pool's surface. "Remember that there is a time when we all must step back and allow our Chosen to make their own decisions and actions, without our assistance – even in the case of one so young as this one."

The Goddess glared at her brother-god. "I know it as well as you do."

"Then remember it." He replied shortly, and left.

***

"Alanna."

The voice was soft, but carried with it unimaginable power, even in a whisper.

"Alanna."

She was already reaching for her sword and rolling to her feet by the time this second whisper was uttered. Seeing the identity of her midnight visitor, she dropped to her knees.

"My mother."

The Goddess smiled, laying a gentle hand on Alanna's head.

"You are troubled, my daughter."

Alanna looked up, feeling, as she had on the Goddess's previous visit, the truth rising unbidden to her tongue. "Sleep eludes me – I am worried about my ordeal."

"And more than that, I sense."

Alanna shrugged. "It's nothing really. Well – a – a sense of foreboding, although I don't know of what."

The Goddess nodded. "It is natural for you to be apprehensive. This next year will decide the course of your life, and though I fear it may not be the one I had hoped for at your birth, whatever you decide shall have impact upon the lives of those around you – even decide the fate of kingdoms, and it is a fate only you can decide."

Alanna swallowed. "I – surely I cannot have such a path before me, my mother –"

"Ah," The Goddess said gently. "But you do. You are one of my Chosen, Alanna – gifted and strong, for I would entrust the tasks I give to you to no other. Chose you must, and will, child."

"But –"

The Goddess smiled, taking Alanna's chin in her hand so that she could see her face. "Whatever you choose will be right, in the span foreseeable to your kind. My hand has been guiding you since your birth, shaping you to do this – I am seldom wrong."

She leaned down, kissing Alanna lightly on the forehead gently. "I suggest you get this sleep you crave, child, for you will need your strength on the morrow."

Alanna nodded, suddenly feeling immensely tired. "Yes, my mother."

Yawning, she dropped her sheathed sword beside the narrow bed, falling back onto the pillow. The air around the Goddess shimmered briefly, and then she was gone.

***

Liam handed her the mask. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, slipping it onto her head. "As I'll ever be."

He nodded, and stood back. "Very well then. Enter the court."

Alanna took at deep breath, walking forward on shaky legs. Gritting her teeth, she willed her knees to be steady and walked through the high doorway, wincing as it clanged shut behind her. Grimly, she pulled down the mask, simple and unadorned; it's expressionless features giving away none of her own fears.

Another door banged shut behind her and she spun, bringing her hands into a guard as she spied her opponent – plainly dressed and masked, like herself, giving no clue to their identity or even sex – that was known only to the panel of Shang who sat concealed above them. Bowing their head, her opponent attacked, a whirling series of kicks and punches which Alanna blocked easily, her mock-fights with Liam, who was faster and more experienced, allowing her an advantage, not to mention her own natural speed.

In a few moments, she had thrown her opponent to the floor, seating herself over their chest and arms so that they were unable to rise, flipping up their's – and her own – mask, to reveal their respective identities. The young man was unknown to her, perhaps a year or two older than herself. 

"I yield." He panted, and she stood up, helping him to his feet as he made his way to the smaller door of the court.

She nodded to him. "Well fought."

He nodded courteously in return. "And you also."

The doors opened for him, and a servant placed a bowl of water and a towel just inside it. Taking a mouthful of the water, she drank and splashed her face and arms, then dried both with the towel.

Pulling her mask down again, she knocked at the door to signify she was ready, and towel and bowl were removed as her next opponent entered.

They bowed, and the ordeal began over again, with Alanna again triumphing. The cycle continued on and on, and she began to weary as it went on, trying to recall how many opponents she must face before it was over – she had had seven year mates among the Shang apprentices she had known when she had last come to a gathering of the Shang, and from what Liam had told her, she must face all of them so that it might be decided who among them were not only worthy to be Shang, but the best among them. 

The doors opened yet again, but Alanna had lost count of how many opponents she had faced since she had entered that morning. 

Determinedly she got to her feet, not allowing herself to show the weariness she had begun to feel, and bowed to her opponent, much taller and more powerfully built than she.

The fight was a long one, calling on deep reserves of energy Alanna had had to use but seldom in her life. The man struck at her to quickly to block, a kick to the stomach that sent her flying backwards into the wall. Crumpling against the wall, she closed her eyes, breathing unsteadily. "I yield."

He walked forward, raising her mask, his own already resting on a shock of sun-blond hair, watching her intently with gold-flecked brown eyes as he held out a hand to pull her up. Looking into his eyes, she felt a shock of recognition. "_Jacob_?"

It had been a number of years, and they had both changed in that time, he growing even stronger and larger than when he was fourteen, but Alanna was sure it was him.

He blinked. "Alanna? Is that you?"

She nodded. "Yes. Well fought." She added, grimacing slightly as she rubbed her stomach. "You've got quite a kick there."

He nodded. "Sorry about that – You'd best get out and see if it needs seeing too."

She shook her head. "I'll be alright – just winded me. Good luck."

He nodded gravely. "Thank you." 

She smiled slightly, slipping her mask off fully as she exited.

***

Alanna drew her knees up to her stomach, rubbing Faithful's belly absently. She had beaten all but one off her opponents – surely that was good enough for the council – but the tense ball in the pit of her stomach defied all logic, stubbornly refusing to leave until she heard the words from the lips of the council itself.

A Shang exited the billowing pavilion where the council sat, hitting the brass gong that hung outside the flap, the signal for all to enter the pavilion. Alanna bit her lip, and rose.

_Go,_ Faithful yowled, half asleep in the warm summer sunlight. _You'll do fine._

***

"You have all been judged worthy of becoming Shang." The Unicorn announced, striding across the platform to stand at the centre of it, before the cluster of new Shang – seven in all, for one had been injured fighting carelessly, and had chosen to leave in the early of hours that morning rather than submit to being an apprentice once again – possible, although it was rare to continue training after failing the ordeal in such a shameful manner, and rarer still to pass it the second time. "As is customary, you will now spend a year in the world, learning it's ways and customs, until we meet again, one year from now, at Rachia, capital of Sarain, where you shall be given the right to take a Shang name. Alanna." She called, and the girl stepped forward, bowing. "Unicorn?"

Ice-blue eyes regarded her steadily. "In light of your – unusual – case, the council has set upon you the restriction that in this time you may not return to Tortall, under any circumstances."

Alanna blinked. Liam had warned her, but she couldn't help the feeling that it was terribly unfair. The Unicorn continued. "This is a procedure applied to all nobly-born Shang – that in their year of life alone they may not return to the country of their birth, since the custom encourages the leaning of customs and histories of the world, as well as leaning to survive on one's own – living at court does not count as such." She continued, now addressing all of them. "Likewise, it is suggested that all of you live elsewhere than the country in which you were born, until you receive your Shang title."

"Are you alright?" It was Jake, frowning slightly at her. She looked up at him, squinting at the sun behind him turning his waving blond hair into a halo now that they were outside.

She sighed. "I suppose so – Liam warned me this would happen, but I'll miss my brother and friends."

He grimaced. "You know," he said carefully. "It's not having your old friends with you, but it's permitted – even encouraged sometimes, for newly-made Shang to spend part of their year travelling together, to ease of the loneliness, and to get to know other Shang, especially if they spent a lot of time travelling with only their master."

She looked at him. "You'd like to travel together for a while?"

He shrugged. "If you like."

She grinned. "Thank you, I would like it – it'll be nice to have a friend around."

Jacob nodded, his eyes fixed on some distant point ahead of them. "Where shall we go then?"

She smiled wearily. "I'd like a map to do some more detailed plotting, but we're already in Tyra – why not just roam here for a while, and then go on to one of the countries surrounding here – Maren or Tusaine maybe, since I'm not allowed to go to Tortall."

Jake grinned at her. "Maybe even Carthak, sometime. My mother came from there, and she told me quite a bit about it."

Alanna shrugged. "Why not – although I have to warn you, I get seasick."

"We'll manage."

***

Alanna stopped abruptly as they reached the crest of the hill, tugging on Luna's reins. "What's _that_?"

Jake laughed at her expression. "Marshland. The Drell Delta causes it. It's not good for much, but the Tyran peasants use the better parts of it for growing rice – that's one of the staples of most Tyran's diets."

"I know what rice is." She snapped. "Just because we don't eat it in Tortall doesn't mean I'm _completely_ ignorant of Tyran produce. What I want to know is; do we have to pass through that?"

"If you want to get to the capital." He replied, starting down the hill on his horse – a big boned chestnut he called Wanderer.

She made a face, following him. "Fine – but at least tell me there's a path through."

"Do you want me to tell the truth or do you want a pleasant lie?" He called, and Alanna groaned loudly enough for him to hear, though by then they were no longer close. He laughed. "Don't worry – there's a path."

"And the reason you didn't just tell me that is –"

She got no reply, so she merely continued down the slope, grumbling.

***

"Well, we're here."

"Thank the Goddess for that." Alanna muttered, searching through her saddlebags for the supply of healing herbs and salves she carried with her, scratching at one of the numerous bites on her neck uncomfortably. "So – " She began. "Now we're here – "

Jake shrugged. "I guess the first order of business is to find somewhere to stay. Unless you'd like to use your noble prerogative on our behalf and pay a visit to the king –"

Alanna shook her head firmly. "From what I was told, that's strictly not allowed. Besides, proving myself to everyone won't come about by lying about in some apartment with servants hovering. Let's find an inn. Know any good ones?"  
He blinked. "What made you think I'd know the inns around here?"

She shrugged. "You seemed to know the countryside well enough, so I thought you'd been here before."

Jake nodded. "I have – but that was quite a while ago, and I can't recall the names of any of the inns here."

Alanna nodded. "Let's go find one, then."

***

Half an hour later they came to a stop outside small waterside inn, it's nameplate swinging from a sign in the shape of an odd-looking fish pronouncing it to be _The Clownfish._

"What's a clownfish?" Alanna murmured.

_It's a fish._ Replied Faithful. 

Alanna scowled. _I guessed that. What sort of fish?_

Looks like the one on the sign – you wouldn't have seen them, they live further south than Tortall – around Carthak and such.

The inn was smoky inside, and a little too filled with drunken sailors – even for that time of day – for Alanna's tastes, but the room she was shown to was clean.

Returning to the common room, she found Jacob sitting at the bar, sipping at a tankard of ale. "What do we do now?" He asked.

Alanna shrugged. "The council told us to learn about the customs of the countries we visited, so I suppose the best way to do that would be to go and well – just see what it's like, I suppose."

Jake nodded. "We spent two weeks getting here, what with stopping a fair bit to have a look around the villages and such, so what if we stay here – another week, perhaps, then go to Carthak? The empire as well, I mean."

Alanna nodded. "Alright – let's do that."

Rising, she walked out the door that led to a small courtyard behind the inn and stables, to check on Luna. The horse looked sufficiently recovered to do some small exploring around the city, so Alanna re-tacked her and mounted, riding out the gate and heading in the direction of the market they'd seen on their way there.

***

The innkeeper approached them early the next morning as they ate, puffing and red-faced from exertions the port little man clearly wasn't used to.

"M – My lady, there's a royal messenger waitin' outside who wants to know if ye're Alanna of Trebond."

Alanna blinked in surprise. "Yes – I am. What does he want with me?"

He leaned on his knees. "I don't know, my lady – ye'd better go and see."

She looked at Jake, who shrugged. 

Sighing, she rose and walked out into the courtyard, to be greeted by a young man in the purple and gold uniform of a Tyran royal messenger.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Are you lady Alanna of Trebond?" He asked, somewhat nervously.

She nodded. "I am."

He straightened self-importantly. "I carry a message from his Majesty Daniel, King of Tyra."

She nodded. "And?"

"His Majesty requests that you visit his court today at the evening bells – he also requests that you bring your – companion."

Alanna nodded. "Very well."

Walking away, she muttered, "Just when I thought I was free of having to attend court functions."

***

"I can't go."

"Why _not_?" Alanna demanded.

Jake blushed. "I don't know anything about courtly manners – and besides I – I can't dance."

"I'll be there – I won't let you make any mistakes. And I'll even teach you how to dance. You _are_ coming, Jake. If I have to go through this so do you. You can't refuse a royal request."

"Watch me."

"Jake – " Alanna said, half pleadingly, half warningly.

He sighed. "Isn't there _any_ way to get out of it?"

"No." Was the firm reply. 

"Fine – but you better not make me do anything horrifyingly embarrassing."

Alanna sighed. "Jake, trust me, wearing most court gowns is embarrassing."

"That's reassuring."

"Isn't it just? Now come on, I'm sure we can manage at least one dance before tonight – although we _will_ have to get you some new clothes." She added, looking at his travel worn breeches and shirt.

"_Alanna_ –"

***

"Shang journeyman Jacob, and the lady Shang Alanna of fief Trebond, Tortall!" Alanna groaned inwardly at the title, wishing it had been left at Shang journeywoman as the Herald's voice boomed throughout the hall. 

Determined to show she came as a Shang and not as a visiting noble, she had spent the better part of the day arguing with the seamstress over her outfit – the designs presented had all been of the frilly, feminine sort Alanna was none to fond of, and she had argued for a tunic and breeches. A compromise had eventually been reached over the appropriate length of her attire when one of the seamstress's younger apprentices had suggested an ankle-length surcoat over breeches and a loose shirt,  a brilliant but surprisingly tasteful combination of shades of purple, gold and red.

Jake had shown little interest, allowing himself to be measured with a sort of grim resignation, and then choosing the first design presented to him.

"Lady Alanna," the King said in a deep, rumbling voice. "We were surprised that you did not come to our court when you arrived in our capital." His words held an unspoken question.

Alanna dipped slightly again. "I meant no insult to your hospitality, your Majesty, but with all due respect, I come as a journeying Shang, not a visiting noble."

He leaned forward. "You have passed the training and ordeal of the Shang? Did your family not gainsay this?"

She gave a sort of half shrug, a gesture that, while seemingly inelegant, was surprisingly graceful and appropriate on her. "My brother is the only family I have left, Majesty. He was never opposed my training."

He nodded, leaning back, his posture showing that they were dismissed. Tugging almost imperceptibly on Jacob's arm, Alanna made her way off the carpet.

*** 

King Daniel of Tyra sat back into the ornately brocaded cushions of his throne, eying the newcomer to his court speculatively. She was pretty, no doubt about that, even beautiful – though certainly not the classic beauty of a court maiden – what with her unusual, warrior-like clothes she wore, her face devoid of paint and her hair pulled back severely and unornamented into an intricate bun.  But what was more interesting, even more so than her strange occupation for a lady of her class, even more so than her unconventional beauty, was that – although it was certainly not widely known outside the Tortallan court, for he had only heard it from his spies there – Jonathan of Conte, heir to the throne of Tortall, was reputedly in love with the girl. From what he had heard, the prince preferred his mistresses buxom, tall and classically beautiful – and none of them had ever previously had a reputation of a brain of their own, apart, perhaps – though it was debatable – from the notorious Delia of Eldorne, or indeed a reputation of any sort other than having their name's linked with his Highness's. 

No, there must be something about her that made her worth pursuing despite her unconventional nature – and if it was worth it for Jonathan of Conte, then, well, perhaps it was worth it for him.

*** 

The ball, while proving excruciating in all having to face a whole new set of nobles, was otherwise uneventful, Jake's obvious discomfort at the crowds of fluttering girls surrounding him causing Alanna to bite back a fit of giggles more the once.

He stormed into her room early the next morning, still only half awake, demanding to know what all the handkerchiefs he had found stuffed into his clothing that morning were doing there, and, more importantly, where they had come from, as Alanna explained laughingly the technique of flirting with one's handkerchiefs, a technique that, although she had never used it, she had picked up at the convent. When Jake, blushing, had demanded to know what he did with all of them, Alanna had shrugged helplessly. 

"They never taught us that," she said. "It's supposed to be like giving a girl flowers – you could use them as part of your healing kit, I suppose."

He groaned, looking down at the mound of lace he held crushed between his enormous hands. "Please tell me we don't have to go through that again."

She shrugged. "That depends on how soon we leave. If we go earlier than we planned, hopefully we won't have time to attend another. Back home, functions are held around every three or four days in the social season, although there's almost always dancing and such after dinner."

Jake nodded fervently. "Let's leave tomorrow, then."

*** 

Jake's actions expressed his desire to leave as fervently as his words, it seemed, when he announced that night that he had managed to find a ship that would take them to Carthak two days hence. Alanna had nodded enthusiastically over her dinner at this news, as happy to be leaving as he.  Jake had disappeared after their morning exercises and combat, leaving her to her own devices about the city. Around mid-morning the King had appeared, complete with entourage, and insisted she join him, declaring that there could be no-one better than he to escort her about his capital, although she had protested a Shang journeywoman needed no escort.

She had spent an uncomfortable day with him, worrying about how she would explain this to the council if word got back to them, and, more immediately, about the glances she saw the King taking at her out of the corner of her eye when he thought she didn't see, though she shuddered inwardly at them.

Courteously riding back with her to the inn, the king had suggested again that she stay at his court instead – or, in his words, 'grace his halls with her presence,' – although he was not ill-mannered enough to wrinkle his nose, as some of his entourage did at the sight and smell of the place.

Again, Alanna had courteously refused, all too eager to get away from the man's crawling eyes, and silently cursing when he had told her he would be sure to 'drop in' the next morning, to spend some more time in her pleasant company, and she had no convenient lie to refuse him with. Gratefully she had excused herself, hurrying inside the inn and, for the first time in all her almost-eighteen years, deliberately ordered a tankard of beer with the intent of getting well and truly drunk.

Jake had arrived before she reached her goal, but the beer had made her memories of the pleasantly fuzzy by that point, so she didn't mind overmuch when he pointedly took her drink away. 

*** 

She had been cold, polite, but cold. Perhaps that was what attracted Jonathan to her – he had finally met a woman who wasn't interested in him, perhaps. Or perhaps she truly was in love with him, and he with her – but Daniel seriously doubted it. Love – the true love heard about in the bard's tales – was rare enough among courtiers as it was, and rarer still for a royal – they were taught from the day of their birth the love for anyone, be it a mistress or even just a close friend – a princess could not be permitted to have a lover, after all – just made things more difficult when the time came for an inevitably arranged marriage – politics had little time to spare for love. His own interest in her was certainly political – a country whose King boasted the loyalty of one of the legendary Shang was not to be trifled with, and she was from an old an respected – if eccentric – family to boot.

But such a thing would have to be done delicately – he couldn't afford the enmity of his larger neighbour over something that would be perceived as stealing another royal's lover – it would have to seem as if she was the one who precipitated events – and everyone knew noble women could change their preferences at the drop of a hat.

*** 

Much to Alanna's disgust, when King Daniel had learnt of her impending departure he had organised a little 'social gathering' to be held in honour of her leaving, something rather ludicrous in Alanna's opinion, considering she'd only been there three days.

But, she thought, turning her face to the wind, that was over now. They had only just left the harbour, and she was enjoying the brief few moments of calm, knowing she was bound to be sick in a moment.  Looking back, Alanna caught a glimpse of the coast of Tyra, and distantly, Tortall, as the prow turned westward, towards Cathak.

**End**

A/N:  Well, there you have it, the last chapter. *****sniff* My baby's all grown up! Due to popular demand, I will be writing a sequel (The Phoenix Queen). If you want me to email you when I post that, and when chapters go up, tell me and put your email in your review (hint hint).

Thanks to (*=review) :-

Ninsetta Tristel Sundar**** (Who gave me my very first review.), Germini-Twins78*, 

Stargazer**, SmartOne*, Ila**, Hyperchick88***, Nessa'fur*******, Asianlioness***,

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Many thanks, Aranel.


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